Crush Object
by vcg73
Summary: Kurt has no idea what to do when confronted by a case of unrequited puppy-love.
1. Chapter 1

History Lesson: Kurt's accidental reputation transformation into a BAMF – aka Bad Ass Mo Fo – came from DJ-DizzyD's story "Wingman". My continuation of that story: "Turnabout: Chronicles of a Matchmaking Badass" had Kurt trying to ease his way back into normalcy by shifting the school's attention over to Karofsky and Azimio, whom he convinced to come out of the closet, only to realize he had a brand new problem when the freshman boy he'd saved from a dumpster-dive started leaving flowers and romantic poems in his locker. So, just a little bit of fluff in the form of a nice, awkward high-school romance! :-D

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Kurt was beginning to feel like a hunted animal. Not necessarily a foreign emotion, after all he had been pursued by bullies for half his life, but this was entirely different. All day long, every time he turned around that wide-eyed little freshman seemed to be there, peeking around corners and lurking in the background. Staring at him with that adoring expression that he uncomfortably suspected had adorned his own features whenever he had looked at Finn Hudson last year. Like he had hung the moon and all he needed to do was return those shy little smiles and it would make the boy's entire existence worthwhile.

It was an awesome – in the literal sense of something both great and terrible – power to have over another person, and Kurt did not have the slightest idea what to do with it.

Avoidance would be the coward's way out, but right now Kurt felt that he'd be happy to add that to all the other labels he'd been collecting lately, titles that did not quite suit him but were comfortable to hide behind while he figured out a plan.

He sighed in relief as the bell rang to let him out of his final class of the day and he emerged into the hallway with all of the other students, finding no mini-stalker waiting for him this time. Spinning his combination, Kurt tossed his notebook and History text inside and began to transfer his homework and a few other items into his messenger bag.

Checking his hair and face in the small mirror hanging inside his locker, Kurt smiled as he noted the comments of several students walking past. It seemed that the gossip mill was still furiously buzzing about WMHS's newest gay couple, the shocking jock love story of Karofsky and Azimio, meaning that he no longer had to worry about keeping up his recent badass reputation. He was grateful for that. It had been a fun but exhausting exercise and the prospect of a free evening - there were no Glee or Cheerios practices scheduled and Dad was not expecting him at the garage today - was extremely appealing.

As Kurt closed his locker, he turned around and released a most undignified, "Eek!" at finding the little brown-eyed boy standing right behind him, clutching a pile of books tightly against his thin chest. "I mean, uh, hi. I didn't see you standing there."

The boy's big eyes looked absolutely starry as Kurt spoke directly to him, but his fine reddish eyebrows knitted together and he chewed nervously on his bottom lip as he studied the blank surface of Kurt's locker, a devastated look appearing in his eyes. "You didn't like them," he whispered, small shoulders slumping.

Noting the ginger-colored hair, freckles and cutely pointed features, which he had not really taken much notice of before, Kurt had been musing that the boy looked a lot like a leprechaun, but he put that thought aside as he followed the gaze and realized what he was upset about. "The roses? Were those from you?" He knew that they were, but it was easier to play dumb. The boy nodded. "That was a really sweet gesture, and of course I liked them, but you didn't have to go to so much trouble just to thank me. I was happy to help. Believe me, I know what dumpster-dives feel like and I wouldn't wish one of those on anybody!"

_You're rambling, Kurt! Keep it casual. He needs to know that saving him was just a nice gesture from one dude to another. Something you'd have done for anybody. Wait . . . __**dude**__? When did I start channeling Puck? Yeesh! _

"Somebody did that to _you_?" the boy said, bringing Kurt's mind back to reality.

He sounded so astounded and outraged that Kurt could not help smiling. "That and a lot of other things, nearly every day," he said honestly. "See, up until the end of last year, I was about your size and I like to wear nice clothes and I have a tendency to fight back with sarcasm. The fact that I'm both openly gay and a part of the glee-club only added to the problem. I was just way too much temptation for the thug-brigade to resist."

Stricken, the freshman clutched his books tighter. He only appeared to have heard two words of what Kurt had been saying. "_E_v_ery day_?"

Kurt winced. He had not meant to frighten the kid. "Only at first, and it might not be so bad for you. Like I said, in their eyes, I kind of brought it on myself." He did not believe for a moment that this kid would have it any better than he had. Puck and Finn had joined Glee and stopped picking on the losers, and he had probably taken Karofsky and Azimio out of the lineup when he had pulled them out of the closet, but there always seemed to be new bullies ready to take the place of the old. Luckily, from the boy's relieved expression, his assurance was enough for, "What's your name, anyway?"

"Dennis Payson," he replied eagerly. "You can call me Denny, if you want to."

"Nice to meet you, Denny. I'm Kurt," he said, offering his hand for a quick formal shake.

The other boy's small hand was cold and he did not have much of a grip, but Kurt put that down to nerves and tried not to notice how reluctant the kid was to let him go. Oh, this could be bad.

Kurt quickly made a decision. Mercedes was right. Ignoring a problem never worked, so he would do the opposite. He would befriend this boy, _prove_ that he was just a regular guy with nothing very special or crush-worthy to focus on, and soon the hero worship shining in those huge eyes would fade away. It was nice, flattering and all, to think that someone actually had a crush on him but he was not convinced that Mercedes was also right about the gay thing. One sappy poem proved nothing. After all, puppy-love knew no boundaries.

Kurt could still remember back in sixth grade when _he_ had crushed unbelievably hard on an eighth-grade girl who had owned, hands-down, the most beautiful wardrobe he had ever laid eyes on. He had written their names, surrounded by hearts and flowers, a thousand times in his notebooks and daydreamed about the gorgeous wedding they would have some day. Oddly enough, he could no longer remember the name he had scrawled so many times, but the girl had transformed Kurt's entire outlook on fashion without them ever exchanging a word. The crush had eventually faded, to be replaced by another one on a seventh-grade boy with braces and a strange love of lizards, and that 'true-love' had also turned out to be entirely ephemeral. No doubt Denny's crush on him would fade just as quickly and thoroughly once he got to know the real Kurt Hummel. And if he wasn't really gay, he would be extremely relieved later on that Kurt had not let him do anything to embarrass himself. Who knew, maybe he would even pass that same kindness onto some other deserving underclassman one day! Pay it forward, as it were.

_Yeah, I like that idea. One good deed begets another, and slowly the world becomes a better place. Forget being a BAMF. Just call me Saint Kurt, the Benevolent!_

Kurt's self-satisfaction came to an abrupt halt as he noticed that the other boy was starting at his outfit. The one he had been so smugly certain would attract attention when he put it on this morning. Well it certainly was succeeding, if Denny's mesmerized gaze was anything to go by. Attractively displayed arms, red jeans clinging tightly to Kurt's long muscular legs, and especially the way those same pants drew direct attention to his groin, which had been reacting with unfortunate enthusiasm toward his lack of underwear all day long.

_Oh, crap, I probably look like I'm begging for it! _

And from the look on his new friend's bright-red face, he would be more than happy to answer that request if Kurt were to verbalize it. Kurt matched the blush when he noticed that Denny's stack of textbooks was being surreptiously lowered to cover a reaction of his own.

Damn, so much for the kid not really being gay. Admiring him out of gratitude was one thing, it could be excused all sort of ways, but getting physically turned on by having another boy's body in close proximity? Yeah, that was definitely something more.

"So, I should probably get going," he said quickly. "Gotta get dinner started before my dad gets home from work. I'll, um, I'll catch you tomorrow, okay? Oh, and thanks again for the roses. They were really nice. Have a good evening." Smiling in what he hoped was a friendly but not inviting way; Kurt turned on his cute little granny-booted heel and fled.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?


	2. Chapter 2

Some of this is reiteration of stuff that happened in 'Turnabout: Chronicles of a Matchmaking Badass' so it might look a bit familiar. I felt I had to, since Burt wasn't there for any of that.

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"Hello?"

"In the back, Kurt!"

Kurt wove his way through the work-cluttered garage, to the back of the shop where his dad's two regular mechanics were working on a jacked-up Ford truck. The moment he saw them, each of the three slapped a hand to their hips and drew finger-gun quick draws. Kurt's draw was just a hair too slow and he clutched his chest dramatically, making pathetic gurgling noises as the mechanics laughed. Frank and Jesse were brothers who had been named for the infamous James brothers and "outlaw ambush" was a game that they had been sharing with Kurt ever since his dad had first hired them nearly eight years ago.

"Long time, no see, Slugger," Jesse said, returning his attention to the truck as he talked.

"I've been pretty busy lately, catching up with school and things. I missed hanging out with Dad so I thought I'd come by and do my homework here today. Is he back in the office?"

"Donut run," Frank offered, causing Kurt to roll his eyes. "He'll be back in a minute. How's school? Other than the usual social drama?"

He laughed. "Completely boring. I had three different tests today and a class lecture in Economics that made me feel like my brain was turning to jello. It seemed like nothing interesting happened in class all day, and yet . . . "

Kurt held up his messenger bag, which was virtually bursting at the seams with homework.

"The curse of Junior year," Jesse chuckled. "Every teacher starts piling on the work to prepare you for finals and eventual college, completely forgetting that every other teacher is probably doing the same thing."

A sigh of self-pity escaped before Kurt smiled again. "Well, I guess if you guys both got through it, it probably won't kill me either."

They were interrupted by Burt, who walked into the shop carrying a large pink donut box, smiling when he saw his son. "Thought I heard your voice, Kurt."

"Hi, Dad," he greeted, gesturing with his bag again. "I thought maybe you could use some company in the office, since it's Tuesday."

Burt Hummel always balanced the books for his business on Tuesday afternoons, every week without fail. There was no particular reason for his having chosen that particular day, it was just the way he had always done it.

"Sounds good," he replied cheerfully. He had a well known hatred for paperwork and welcomed any potential distraction. Offering the box to the others, who each helped themselves to a couple of donuts, he asked Kurt, "Want one?"

Kurt made a face. "Dad, you know how bad processed sugars and refined bleached flour is for my skin. Not to mention what all those empty calories could potentially do to my waistline!"

Unruffled by the griping, Burt moved the box closer to him and coaxed, "That's too bad, because I've got a few nice, fresh, sugar twists right here. Watched them pull the batch fresh from the fryer and roll them not fifteen minutes ago."

Before he could stop himself, Kurt's tongue darted over his lips, giving away his interest. He loved sugar twists. "With cinnamon?"

His father chuckled. "Oh, I think a couple might have some cinnamon. Sure you're not interested?"

Kurt huffed. It really just wasn't fair to have a parent who knew all of your personal weaknesses when it came to food. On the other hand, he _had_ been working out awfully hard with the Cheerios lately. And he had not eaten his usual after school snack when he had dropped by the house long enough to change clothes (He had not wanted to give poor Dad a heart-attack with his blatantly sexy outfit.) so he _was_ pretty hungry. "Do we have any milk?"

Burt squeezed his shoulder. "Got some in the mini-fridge. Come on."

He led the way back to the open work area where the computer and files were kept. It had a set of matching desks and chairs, facing one another, and no walls other than a flimsy cubicle set-up, but this was as close to a formal office as Burt Hummel had ever cared to get. And it was referred to as such by everyone who worked there, including Kurt.

As his father set out a cup of coffee and two jelly-cream center donuts for himself and a cup of cold milk and one of the coveted sugar twists for Kurt, Kurt pulled out his laptop computer and his homework, arranging textbooks and notebooks in a neat stack to his left. As assignments were completed, he would transfer the papers and books to his right until the pile on the left had vanished. This systematic manner of doing his homework was a copy of the way Burt did his office paperwork – except that Kurt preferred to type out his reports and essays while Burt never touched his desk computer unless it was absolutely necessary – and one that worked perfectly for both of them.

For several minutes, the two worked in silent tandem, scribbling notes and periodically taking delicate – in Kurt's case anyway – bites from their donuts. As soon as the snack was gone, however, Burt asked, "So, am I going to get another call from the Principal about you fighting?"

Kurt looked up, startled, one sugary fingertip still trapped between his lips. "What? No, why would you think that?"

Burt made a vague gesture toward his own jaw. "Looks like somebody clocked you. And I figured out that you were kind of upset about something the second I laid eyes on you."

Startled, Kurt scrambled to pull his small compact mirror out of his school bag, snapping it open to examine his face. Oh, dear. He had not even noticed in his hurry to change clothes and come down to the garage that Karofsky's little love-tap in the hallway had left a rather prominent bluish green bruise on his left jaw. "It's not what you think. I mean, not exactly."

"And what was it . . . exactly?"

Kurt squirmed, having a feeling that this wasn't going to sound good, no matter how he phrased it. "You know those two Neanderthals who are always harassing me at school?" He had previously given his dad a much abbreviated and very Disney-fied version of the rampant homophobia and bullying that went on daily at McKinley. Burt nodded, looking concerned. "Well, it turns out that those two were in major denial and have actually been hot for each other all this time."

Burt nearly choked on his coffee. "What?"

"I figured it out, and after I stopped them from messing with some little freshman kid, I confronted them about the way they've been acting, and it all worked out! Sort of." He paused, waiting for a reaction, but Burt just gaped at him so he continued. "I may have, sort of, kneed one of them in the balls and that's why the other one very rudely punched me in the face. Because of the damage I'd inflicted on his friend . . . oh, but that was _after_ they had just come out to the whole school, so it was kind of forgivable that he was a little stressed-out."

Mouth opening and closing as he struggled to make sense of what he was hearing, Burt finally said, "A little stressed out. You're telling me that you got into it with not one, but both, of these gigantic football players."

"Karofsky's a hockey player," Kurt corrected, then quickly hung his head when his father glared at him. "Sorry."

"You confronted these guys, got a little physical with them . . . and you _won_?"

Feeling quite certain that his father did not want to know the exact details of that confrontation, Kurt simply nodded.

After staring at him so long that Kurt started to squirm, Burt shook his head. "Well, I guess I don't need to worry about whether you can take care of yourself any more!"

Kurt grinned, recognizing the vast relief in his father's voice.

Then Burt frowned. "Wait, so if that all worked out for the best, why are you still upset?"

Kurt's eyes went wide. How did he always _do_ that? Was he psychic or something?

Burt gestured toward Kurt's chest. "You're dressed down and you're wearing your mom's old sweater. Something is bugging you."

Glancing down at himself, Kurt brushed the garment with his fingertips. He had not expected his father to notice. When he'd gone home he had been caught by a strong desire for comfort clothes. Some people had special foods they went for when they needed soothing, but for him it was always clothing. He had dressed from the skin out in comfortable garments. Plain, white cotton underwear that he would not admit to owning under extreme torture, his oldest and softest pair of blue jeans, sturdy walking boots and the thick, roomy fisherman's knit sweater in a soft shade of pearl-gray that had been made and originally worn by his mother.

"I'm not sure that upset is the right word," he confessed. "I'm more . . . confused."

"About what?"

The inviting tone gave Kurt courage. His dad seemed to be in a very receptive mood today. "You remember that conversation that you said you weren't ready to have?"

Burt blinked, frowning in momentary confusion. Then he grimaced, sounding almost timid as he clarified, "You mean, about you and boys?"

Kurt could feel a blush staining his cheeks. "That's the one."

Drawing a deep breath, Burt squared his shoulders and said, "Well, I guess I knew it had to come one of these days. So, who is he? Do I know him?"

"_I_ don't even know him," Kurt blurted, huffing a small laugh at his father's confused expression. "It's that freshman; the one I saved from the bullies."

Burt scratched his nose. "Yeah?"

Kurt winced. "Well, I found out that he's . . . sort of got a little crush on me."

Clearly that had not been what Burt was expecting him to say. "Wait, so this isn't about you and a guy?"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt said, "Of course it is, Dad! Only, I'm on the receiving end and I don't know what to do about it. I mean, this has never happened before! The only other time somebody had a crush on me, it was Mercedes, and she ended up throwing a softball sized _rock_ through my window when I couldn't return her feelings. I've had crushes on boys before but, as far as I know, this is the first time _any_ boy has ever had a crush on me."

To his credit, Burt gave the matter some honest consideration, sipping at his coffee as he digested all of the unexpected news his son had just dumped on him. Finally, he said, "Well, why not? You're a good lookin' guy, y'know, kind of pretty and all. And you're smart and talented and a good person. I didn't know there were any other gay kids at your school, but if there are, why shouldn't they have a thing for you?"

Honestly flattered by this fumbling compliment, Kurt flashed a tender smile. "Thanks, Dad."

He shrugged. "And this kid probably thinks you're some kind of hero if you saved him from those two goons, especially since you managed not to get beat up in the process. Relationships have started on shakier ground, right?"

"Relationships?" Kurt repeated, his voice rising a bit. "Dad, didn't you hear what I said? He's a freshman. He's probably, like, 14."

Burt frowned. "And you're 16."

"Almost 17," Kurt huffed. He only had a few weeks to go, why couldn't anyone seem to remember that and treat it with the dignity it deserved?

His dad just snorted. "Sorry, almost 17. The point is, do you like him back?"

"I don't even know him," Kurt said again, his voice a mere mumble. "Never met him before today. He probably doesn't even really like me all that much."

"I wouldn't count on that," Burt said, eyes twinkling. "Hero-worship is a pretty powerful love drug. But, maybe you're right. I mean, it's not like he's sending you love letters."

Kurt's unfortunate tendency toward blushing gave him away, yet again.

A small grin was twitching the edge of Burt's mouth. "He didn't."

Secretly wishing he had just avoided this conversation, Kurt slid his hand inside his messenger bag and pulled out a wrinkled piece of notebook paper and a slightly mangled pink rose. "These were on my locker when I got out of 3rd period today."

"To the awesomest guy at McKinley High. Your eyes are bluer than the morning sky," Burt read aloud. His lips were trembling before he even got to the second line and by the time he reached the end of the second, his eyes were tearing with suppressed laughter. "If you will agree to hold my heart; our love will never be torn apart."

The battle not to laugh was lost within seconds as Burt made the mistake of glancing at his son's scowling face and indignant posture. The chuckles virtually burst from his body, growing deeper and heartier the more he tried to stop.

"Dad!" Kurt squawked, fighting it as he started to laugh himself. "Stop laughing, it's isn't funny!"

Burt was actually giggling as he tried and failed to contain his mirth. He clapped a hand over his heart and fluttered his stubby lashes and Kurt's battle was lost. The two of them laughed until they were breathless.

Feeling much better for the unexpected manner of venting his emotions, Kurt smiled at his father. "So, what do you think I should do? I thought about trying to be friends with Denny, that's his name, but I don't want to lead him on if he's serious. It's just that, I know how hard it is to be the only gay kid at school and now that I'm not anymore, I feel like I should at least _try_ to be available for him to talk to about things."

"I agree. I wish you'd had somebody like that these last couple of years and I still think it would be good for you to have a friend you can really talk to about that kind of stuff. If this kid is smart at all, he'll eventually figure out that you're not interested in him as anything but a friend. Maybe his own feelings will change."

"I just don't want to hurt him if they don't," Kurt admitted. "He seemed like a nice guy."

Burt nodded. "There's nothing you can do if the kid is determined to get his heart broken. Brushing him off right now would probably be just as bad, if not worse. This way, at least he'll know he can count on you if he does need to talk. Just make sure that there's no chance of you liking him back before you do anything hasty," he suggested, surprising Kurt yet again with his unexpectedly supportive attitude. "I know he's younger than you, and that's really important when you're in high school, but as much as I know you hate to be reminded of this, Kurt, you're not like everybody else. It might be nice for you to have somebody you can go out with. You know; maybe have some dates and stuff, like Finn and all your other friends."

Suddenly sensing an ulterior motive, Kurt's eyes narrowed. "And you know I'd never take advantage of an inexperienced kid, giving _you_ one less thing to worry about. Right?"

"It crossed my mind," he said, grinning at Kurt as he grabbed a donut and chomped a hearty bite out of it. "Now, unless you've got any more surprises to spring on me, we better get back to these books if we don't want to be here 'til midnight."

Kurt was not sure he had gained any real answers, but it was nice to know that he had full parental support for whatever he decided to do. Going back to his English assignment, he put the matter aside for now. He would talk it over with his friends tomorrow. Surely one of them would have a good idea.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, Kurt, breakfast is . . ." Finn Hudson trailed off as he descended the last few steps into the basement and got a good look at Kurt, who was standing in front of the open closet door, just staring at his vast designer wardrobe as if it held the answer to all the secrets in the universe. "Dude, just pick something already! You've been standing there in your underwear for half an hour."

"It has to be perfect," he replied in a mesmerized tone, gently stroking one colorful sleeve with his fingertips before returning to his previous cross-armed pose.

Finn rolled his eyes. "It's Wednesday. What's so special about that? Just choose an outfit and come upstairs for breakfast before you make us late."

"Go ahead, nobody's stopping you," Kurt told him, finally tearing his eyes away from the closet long enough to glare at his friend.

Finn gave him a disbelieving look. "Dude, you promised me a ride today. If you're late to school, then so am I. Besides, you promised Mr. Shue on Monday that you wouldn't skip or be tardy for Glee anymore after what happened last week. Remember?"

Kurt nodded, but his attention was already drifting again. "Dior or LaCroix?" he murmured, lightly fingering two silk shirts, one in pale minty green and the other a vivid bubblegum pink. Finn's stomach growled, earning him a second scowl. "I'll be there in a few minutes, Finn."

To his surprise, the other boy refused to budge. "No, way. If I leave you'll spend another hour considering the perfect pants to go with one of those shirts, then fuss over the vest, or the scarf, or the jacket to set them off just right. Then it'll be shoes and hats, and _then_ you'll change your mind and start all over again and we'll be lucky to get to school before Thursday!"

Bristling at this assessment, which Kurt secretly had to admit was not entirely unsupported by experience, he planted a fist on his hip. "Well, if you'd stop interrupting me every two seconds, it wouldn't be taking so long!"

Finn's brown eyes narrowed. "Kurt," he said calmly. "I'm going to step into the bathroom for a minute. If you haven't picked an outfit and started putting it on by the time I get back, I will carry you upstairs for breakfast just the way you are."

"You wouldn't dare!"

A devilish grin spread over the tall boy's features and he feinted left, then surged right when Kurt squealed and tried to duck around him, capturing him with a shoulder under his waist and lifting the kicking, thrashing boy into a fireman's carry and heading toward the stairs.

"Finn Hudson, you put me down this instant!"

"Are you going to get dressed?"

Kurt thumped his fists against the other boy's back. "All right, _all_ _right_, I'll pick something! Put me down!"

Bending forward, Finn set him neatly back on his feet, flashing a big smile and ruffling Kurt's hair before stepping into the bathroom.

No longer certain that Finn would not cart him all the way up to have breakfast with Dad and Carole wearing nothing but a flimsy tank and a pair of blue briefs, Kurt quickly pulled the luscious pink LaCroix and his gray and black striped woolen trousers from the closet and hurried into them. Socks to match the shirt, cute loafers that actually managed to make his slightly oversized feet look dainty, and a chic gray bomber jacket with adorable little cutout panels that showed off the color of his shirt. His new black fedora with the snazzy snap brim and silvery hatband completed the ensemble.

Almost . . .

Kurt moved to his vanity table, where he had put Denny's roses in a vase of water. A few of them had not fared well over a day in his locker and a trip home in his messenger bag, but those that had been mere buds had survived and most had bloomed overnight. Kurt chose a delicate pink rosebud that had opened only a fraction and tucked it expertly into his hatband. It complimented his shirt beautifully and the simple knowledge that he had an admirer who had gone to a lot of personal trouble to give him something nice filled Kurt with warmth. He wanted Denny to see and know that his gift had been appreciated.

A small frisson of doubt crossed Kurt's mind as he preened, wondering if the token gesture might be taken a bit too seriously. Last year, _he_ would have been absolutely convinced that he and Finn were destined for true love and eternal happiness if he had presented Finn with a gift that he had chosen to wear proudly for the world to see.

_You felt that way even without a gift,_ a little voice in his head mocked. _On the other hand, how many days did you spend waiting and hoping, __**longing**__ for some little sign that Finn liked you and appreciated the things you did for him? _

He sighed. Only every single day.

As the boy in question reemerged from the bathroom, a look of immense self-satisfaction on his handsome face when he saw that Kurt was fully dressed, Kurt's chin lifted proudly. What had all his high hopes ever given him? Just a lot of empty, heart-broken evenings. Maybe it was time he gave somebody who really cared about him a chance. And maybe it was also high time that Finn 'Mr. Popularity' Hudson got to see him, Kurt Hummel, on the receiving end of somebody's genuine affection.

_But you don't feel anything for Denny, at least not yet. Wouldn't that be using him?_

Kurt tossed his head, silencing the condemning little voice. **Yet** was the operative word. He wasn't going to hurt anyone and maybe, in spite of the difference in their age and experience, there might be something worth pursuing here. After all, even Dad had thought he should give the younger boy a fair chance.

Friendship, for now, but later on . . . who knew?

"How do I look?" he asked, smiling and giving a twirl as he turned to face Finn.

The ever-oblivious boy just snorted. "You could be a runway model," he said in a totally deadpan voice that made the compliment sound more like an insult. "Can we eat now?"

Grabbing his bag, Kurt brushed past the other boy. "Great, Chewie. Always thinking with your stomach."

Finn, not even slightly offended as he recognized a line from one of their favorite blended-family movies, 'Return of the Jedi', followed him up the stairs, happily entertaining himself with loud, guttural Wookie sounds.

Kurt shook his head. What on Earth had ever prompted him to have romantic feelings for this boy?

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There was no sign of Dennis Payson when Kurt and Finn arrived at school and sorted out their books for the first few classes of the day, but Kurt was pleased to have found no sign of the usual morning dumpster-dive having taken place either. If nothing else, his actions had apparently given the entire nerd population a day off.

Feeling quite proud of himself, Kurt walked with a little extra spring in his step as he followed Finn toward the music room.

And then it happened.

Out of seemingly nowhere, four students that Kurt had never laid eyes on before appeared before him, determined looks on their faces and dangerously full Slushie cups in their hands. Instinctively, Kurt and Finn both flinched and squeezed their eyes shut. But there was no breathtaking dash of cold liquid to ruin their clothing and mood, and after a moment, Kurt cautiously opened one eye. The kids were still there, a black girl with braces, a white girl with a complexion that made Kurt tingle to rush her to the nearest cosmetics counter, an Asian boy who looked about ten-years-old and apparently shopped at the same hopeless-pre-geezer outlet mall that supplied Artie Abrams' clothing, and a tall gawky looking boy who reminded Kurt of a black Napoleon Dynamite.

All four held out the Slushies and smiled at him. Finn was ignored entirely, much to Kurt's amazement. He glanced down at the drinks, noting that they were each a different one of the school machine's available four flavors, grape, cherry, orange and blueberry. Hesitating, he chose cherry, his favorite for not only the taste, but for the satisfyingly bold color and the fact that it was mysteriously less popular for throwing into other people's faces.

Braces-girl beamed and tossed her thickly braided hair in a decidedly 'Take that!' gesture toward the others as her gift was chosen over theirs. The other three looked distinctly upset.

"Um, not that I don't appreciate the gesture," Kurt said, "but why exactly are you giving me this?"

"Denny told us what you did," the little Asian boy said matter-of-factly.

Zit-girl spoke up, shooting a nervous glance at the amused looking Finn. "He told everybody. That was so awesome."

The others nodded and Kurt shifted, seeing a spark of the same hero-worship he had witnessed in Denny's eyes the day before. He had really thought he might get off without any unwanted notice once Azimio and Karofsky stole the spotlight yesterday, but apparently his premonition of being hailed as the Dweeb Champion of McKinley was coming true.

"Oh, well, that was as much for my sake as for his," he tried, hoping that a trace of selfishness might dim their enthusiasm. "It just seemed like the right thing to do."

Deflection did not work. Instead, braces-girl squealed, the sudden high-pitched noise so close to his ear nearly causing Kurt to accidentally Slushie his roommate. Luckily, Finn caught his arm before the reflex jerk could do any damage.

"Oh, my God, you guys," the girl babbled, fanning her hand excitedly. "That is so . . . like, _so_ sweet!"

Kurt and Finn exchanged a totally confused look when the Freshman quartet effusively thanked Kurt and hurried off down the hallway as the first warning bell rang, twittering amongst themselves like a flock of excited birds.

"What was _that_?" Kurt asked after a moment.

Finn laughed. "Beats me, dude, but I think you've got a fan club."

"Great," he said insincerely, continuing to stare down the hallway with puzzled eyes as Finn led him into the practice room.

The class was not yet even half-full. Mercedes and Rachel were standing next to the piano fooling around with some vocal runs, but Mercedes cut herself off and grinned as her best friend came into view. "Lookin' fine, boy!" she greeted, nodding in approval as she looked him up and down. "New jacket?"

"You like it?" he asked, giving the ladies a twirl to show off the finer points of his ensemble after handing off his gifted Slushie to Finn. His almost-brother quickly scurried over to a seat, slurping up the tasty and so-far untouched treat with no guilt whatsoever. Kurt simply rolled his eyes. He had not really wanted it anyway.

"I love it!" Mercedes gushed. Brushing her finger along the edge of his hat, she spotted the flower and laughed. "Is that what I think it is?"

Kurt shrugged. "I thought I should show him that I appreciated the thought."

Rachel Berry's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Him?" she said eagerly. "Kurt, do you have a boyfriend?"

Apparently, she had not heard the story. Kurt was unsurprised. When it came to gossip, everyone else in Glee was on text-speed while Rachel was forever waiting on the mailman. "No, but apparently I have a fan club."

Always happy to dish a little dirt, Mercedes gave her a quick rundown of the previous day's events, causing Kurt to blush as he heard his exploits described from an outside point of view for the first time. It seemed that even his friends were viewing his actions with a degree of awe. Mercedes' description of the flower-bedecked locker and love note received a tender, "Awww," from all the girls, their group having somehow grown to include Brittany, Tina and Quinn when Kurt was not looking.

Kurt was embarrassed, but also glad that not everyone viewed Denny's goofy little poem as something to laugh at. It had been meant sincerely, after all, and he felt a little guilty for laughing at it himself. "So, you see, he's not my boyfriend," he said, picking up the narrative and telling them about the Slushie quartet. "I'm sort of hero of the week, I guess, and Denny is just a kid with a crush."

"What are you going to do about him?" Rachel demanded in that annoyingly imperious tone she used when it was clear that she had an opinion on the matter, one that would be loudly and determinedly shared if his answer did not meet her satisfaction. "If his feelings are serious, you can't just ignore him."

Kurt looked down. "I'm not. I've decided to try being friends for now. He's awfully young, though weirdly enough my dad thinks I should ask him out."

"I agree with your father. After all, Denny is 15," Rachel said pointedly, "and you're 16. Why shouldn't you two go out?"

"I'm nearly 17," he reminded her tartly. Could _nobody_ remember that? "And how do _you_ know how old he is?"

Rachel smiled placidly. "Because Denny Payson is in Speech and Debate with me."

"Since when are you on the Debating team?" he asked incredulously. As her mouth opened, he held up his hand. "Never mind. I forgot about your weird fetish for joining clubs just so you can get more photos in the yearbook."

Tossing her hair, which was drawn back by an apricot-colored headband that matched her fuzzy kitten-bedecked sweater, Rachel sniffed. "For your information, I happen to enjoy it. Speech allows me to stretch my already-impressive creativity muscles and Debating encourages articulate, well-considered dialogue and quick thinking. I'll need that when I'm famous and reporters are bombarding me with questions on the runways and red carpets."

Kurt and Mercedes exchanged an eye-roll but otherwise ignored the comment. "So, back to Denny," Mercedes encouraged.

"Oh, right," Rachel chirped, her good mood returning at once. "Like I was saying, I know Denny is 15 because that's the minimum age requirement of the S&D society. He couldn't be on the team if he didn't qualify. So, really, there's nothing stopping you from dating him!"

"Why are you so eager for this?" Kurt asked suspiciously.

Batting her lashes at him, Rachel said sweetly, "Because I, as the daughter of two gay dads and your very close friend, think it's about time you had the same opportunities as everyone else. Society shouldn't condemn your chances to live a normal, happy life."

The words were right, but the tone was somehow all wrong. As Rachel continued to outline her grand plan for his love life and eventual happily-ever-after, he noticed her glancing at Finn with big doe-eyes. Kurt nearly snorted aloud. Ah, so it was her own happy-ever that she was really planning. He might have known. He had given up on Finn as a prospective boyfriend, but Rachel had clearly not forgotten that Kurt had once viewed himself as a source of competition to her. Now she had the chance to gain some insurance and level the playing field, and she was jumping at it.

The breakfast he had consumed churned unhappily in Kurt's gut as he listened to the girls outlining all kinds of reasons why he and Denny might be perfect together. Or maybe it was simply churning due to the hideous yellow and red plaid miniskirt that Rachel was wearing with her kitten sweater. It was difficult to tell.

Slinking away from the group, Kurt went and sat next to Finn and Puck, his exit completely unnoticed by the chattering girls until Mr. Schuester entered the room, followed by the rest of the glee-club. The teacher called for quiet and for everyone to take a seat.

The surprised expressions on the girls' faces at realizing that Kurt was no longer in their midst brought a friendly chuckle from both Puck and Finn.

"Dude, you have really stepped in it now," Puck whispered encouragingly. "After this they'll never leave you alone!"

Kurt sighed and pulled out his sheet music. He was terribly afraid that the other boy just might be correct.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt was beginning to feel a certain degree of sympathy for paparazzi-hounded celebrities by the time lunch rolled around. He had never seen so many freshmen on the side of the school typically devoted to junior and senior students, and all of them were pointing and whispering and smiling at him. What was weirder, the guys who normally pushed him around and threw insults his way were giving Kurt a wide berth.

"The younger kids I kind of get," he grumbled to Mercedes as they left their shared 4th period English class together, "but what's up with the jocks? Surely Azimio wasn't so much of a badass that winning a single fight against him would intimidate the rest of the Neanderthals."

She laughed. "You forget that you kicked Puck's ass a couple of weeks ago, too. Plus you turned the two biggest homophobes in the school into a couple, _and_ you recruited a quarter of the football team for glee-club last year. You know the jocks still call it homo-explosion behind our backs. They're probably all afraid of your magical gay powers now."

He could not help but smile at that. "Okay, first of all I did not turn those guys, they were just living in major public denial. Secondly, I didn't recruit Finn, Puck, Matt and Mike into Glee. Mr. Shue recruited Finn and the others just came along because they found out that singing and dancing was a lot of fun. I had nothing to do with it."

Mercedes popped her left hand back and forth in a familiar gesture and sang, "All the single ladies, all the single ladies . . . "

"Okay, so maybe I had a _little_ bit to do with it," he admitted with a laugh.

"Face it, babe, you're a sorcerer in disguise and now they're all scared to mess with you. I'd enjoy it while it lasts."

He gave their intertwined arms a squeeze. Then he sighed when he noticed Denny standing next to his locker, craning his neck trying to see over the heads of the approaching crowd.

"Hi, Kurt!" he chirped, almost vibrating with enthusiasm when they got close enough for him to spot his idol. "I was afraid I might have missed you."

Kurt nearly squirmed, picturing large cartoon hearts in place of the wide brown irises now centered on his face, staring at him with obvious admiration. Mercedes subtly elbowed him in the ribs and he smiled back. "Hello, it's nice to see you again."

Denny's eyes traveled slowly over him, almost drinking in every detail of his appearance, as cliché as that sounded. "You look really nice today."

"Thanks," he said shortly. Normally, Kurt would have preened and offered detail on every designer and fabric that made up his ensemble, pleased to have someone appreciate the effort he had taken to look fabulous. Today, he just ducked his head and concentrated on the best way to get out of this conversation without embarrassing either one of them.

A sharp intake of breath gave away the smaller boy's delight when Kurt's lowered head allowed him to get a good look at the fedora he wore. "My rose!" he breathed. Smiling shyly at Mercedes, he offered, "I gave those to him yesterday."

"That was really sweet of you," she said kindly. "So, if you gave him the flowers then I'm guessing you must be Denny."

"He _told_ you about me?"

From the breathless tone of his voice and the way his saucer-like eyes were suddenly bulging, Kurt had a terrible sense that Denny might actually be about to faint. Quickly, he interceded. "Oh, forgive me; I forgot you two haven't been introduced yet! Mercedes Jones, my styling consultant and BFF, let me introduce you to Denny Payson, my personal locker decorator and newest friend."

Denny flushed from the edge of his collar all the way up to his hairline when Kurt referred to him as a friend. He smiled brilliantly at them both – seriously, the kid had some gorgeous teeth – and nearly pumped Mercedes' arm off with the force of the handshake he offered. Apparently yesterday's weak grip had been a fluke.

"Nice to meet you, Denny," she said. "So, would you like to join us for lunch?"

Amusement danced in her eyes as she looked at her glaring best friend over Denny's shoulder when the small boy fixed eagerly pleading eyes on Kurt. 'He's a_dor_able!' she mouthed.

"You can join us, if you like," Kurt agreed graciously. "I'm sure our other friends won't mind."

"Wow," Denny sighed, as if Kurt had casually offered him a trip to the moon. "Really?"

Mercedes' warm friendly laugh washed over them. "Of course, really! As long as you do me a favor and flash those pretty brown eyes at the lunch lady for me. She'll give extra desserts if you look pathetic enough."

He grinned at them both, and then gave them a big-sad-eyes expression worthy of Puss-in-Boots from the "Shrek" movies. Both juniors laughed at the sight and the younger boy beamed.

The trio began moving toward the cafeteria together. Kurt could not help noticing that the hallway was still overly populated with freshmen and that many of them were shooting openly jealous or impressed looks at Denny. He wondered if Mercedes had just accidentally elevated the younger boy's social status by issuing that lunch invitation. Probably. Certainly, _he_ had never been extended such an honor back when he was a lowly ninth-grader. Of course, prior to making friends with the Glee kids last year, he had rarely found anybody willing to eat with him anyway . . .

"Can I ask you something?" he said, glancing at Denny.

"Sure!" His voice cracked up shrilly on the word, causing an immediate blush.

Kurt ignored the reaction. After all, he was the last person who could condemn another boy for having a high voice! "How old are you?"

Looking slightly puzzled by the question, he replied, "Fifteen, last month."

Mercedes chuckled but waved a dismissive hand when Denny looked at her.

"I just wondered," Kurt said casually as they got into line for the day's entrée. One of the options today was chicken Caesar salad, a personal favorite of Kurt's, so he decided to brave the cafeteria menu instead of eating the pre-packed lunch he had brought from home.

As Denny perused the available choices, Kurt studied him. He really did seem to be a very nice person; sweet, thoughtful, and potentially funny if he could just get past the awe-struck stage. His heart-shaped face, though liberally dotted with freckles, was unusually clear of the typical blemishes associated with teenage boys, suggesting at least a passing appreciation for soap and proper skin care. The blue jeans and button-down combo was a little mediocre but not entirely devoid of taste. Thankfully Denny did not indulge in the disgusting trend of wearing his pants three sizes too big and hanging halfway down his ass that so many guys favored. (Kurt seriously wanted to track down and shoot whoever had introduced that particular fashion disaster to mainstream America.) That would have been a definite deal-breaker. In fact, his clothes were attractively fitted; enough to show off the fact that he had a very cute butt. And he was fifteen. Still a little young for a soon-to-be-17-year-old, but that extra year had somehow removed the skeevy sensation that Kurt had been feeling at the idea of dating a mere child.

_Wait, so now I __**do**__ want to date him? What happened to taking things slowly and being just-friends for a while first? Way to show off the desperation, you perv! _

Kurt blinked, surprised and a little embarrassed by his own thoughts. He did not even notice that he had stopped moving and was blocking the lunch line until somebody impatiently jabbed him in the ribs.

"Sorry," he said absently, grabbing a salad with dressing on the side and a bottle of orange juice from the cooler as he hurried to catch up with Mercedes and Denny.

The other boy was chattering animatedly and making Mercedes laugh about something. Kurt smiled fondly at the duo as he exchanged niceties with the lunch-lady and paid for his food, observing their interplay and realizing that he really was warming to the whole dating notion.

Kid tested . . . best friend approved. One more point in favor of ending the permanently single status of McKinley's lone and loneliest peacock.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt was grateful that Rachel was present – and God knew this was the first time _that_ had ever happened - when he followed Mercedes to what had become their usual table in the cafeteria. Denny's frightened look had returned when he became suddenly faced with the prospect of eating lunch surrounded by a bunch of upperclassmen, mostly strangers, but Rachel Berry bounced right out of her seat and pounced on him. She dragged him to a seat between herself and Tina, leaving Mercedes and Kurt to sit next to Artie on the opposite side, and introduced him around the table as though he were her special guest.

"So, all of you are in the singing club?" Denny asked shyly, taking a tiny nibble of the sandwich he had bought.

"Indeed we are," Rachel told him proudly. "In fact, you are looking at the original five members of New Directions! Though, we didn't actually have a name in those days."

Tina made a huffing sound. "Except for Loser."

"I like to think that was more of a pet-name," Artie offered wryly.

"We're still not exactly the top of the social ladder," Mercedes warned the boy, "but we've got each other and we love what we do, so the haters can just go take a jump."

Denny sighed quietly. "That sounds really nice. I transferred into McKinley just a few weeks ago and I joined Speech and Drama to try and make friends, but so far nobody talks to me very much. I'm still the 'new kid' to most people."

Kurt winced. He knew that sense of isolation all too well and strongly suspected that it was not only Denny's newness that was holding a social life at bay. "What about those kids I met in the hall this morning? One of them said that you had told them about me helping you yesterday. I just assumed he was a friend of yours."

Denny blushed. "I don't know. I kind of told a lot of people. Pretty much everybody, actually. Guess maybe I overdid it."

Mercedes smiled and passed the kid a cookie. "Hey, don't feel bad about that. Anybody who spreads positive vibes for my man Kurt in this school is pretty much a super-star in my book."

The boy grinned and accepted the treat, his simple joy in the kindly gesture making everyone smile, though Kurt felt a small stab of sorrow as well. At least knowing that Denny was a transfer student relieved his guilt over never having noticed the boy, or the potential bullying he might have suffered, before Tuesday.

Tina cocked her head. "Where did you transfer from?"

"I went to Carmel," Denny replied around another bite of sandwich. Kurt winced as he caught a flash of half-masticated bread and meat. Thankfully, the boy gulped his bite down before adding, "My Dad changed jobs, and when we moved it put me in a different school district. I was glad, though. Everybody at Carmel High was rich and stuck-up and mean. Even the teachers!"

"We've had considerable experience with them, courtesy of their glee-club. They're our biggest rival and they'll do anything possible to undermine their competition," Rachel said darkly. "You're well out of that corrosive environment, Denny."

Denny looked a little confused, particularly as every other person at the table suddenly found something to look at other than Rachel, whose brown eyes had taken on a manic gleam that was frankly a little bit frightening to behold.

"So, if you're in Drama Club, does that mean you sing too?" Artie asked, taking pity on the younger boy and rescuing him before Rachel could do more than draw a deep breath to continue her tirade. "Mr. Schuester is always on the lookout for new members for Glee."

Kurt had been wondering the same thing but had been reluctant to ask. For some reason, he was finding himself unusually tongue-tied. Every time somebody asked Denny a question, the other boy looked to him for . . . he was not even sure. Approval? Reassurance? Whatever it was, it was making Kurt extremely self-conscious.

Denny laughed. "Me? I wish! I can't sing at all."

As the others sympathized that that was too bad, and maybe he just needed some practice, and other comforting nonsense, a coil of apprehension uncurled in Kurt's stomach. He liked Denny and he had still not come to a definite conclusion about whether or not they should date, but the thought of having the other boy close at hand, flashing longing doe-eyed glances and probably clinging to his side like a leech every day during Kurt's favorite emotional get-away at school, had not appealed to him in the slightest.

Did that make him a terrible person? Or maybe just a selfish one?

"You'd have a scheduling conflict. Drama and Glee often run at the same time," Kurt said, startling himself with the interjection. He had not intended to say the words out loud and hoped he did not sound as relieved to everyone else, particularly Denny, as he did to himself. The strange look Mercedes was shooting him suggested that he might have.

Fortunately, Denny did not seem to find anything amiss. "Oh, that's okay. I'd rather listen to other people sing anyway." He perked up, actually bouncing in his seat. "Do you guys ever put on concerts? Stuff the students can attend? I bet you're all really good; especially you, Kurt!"

More than one snort and snicker was valiantly squashed by Kurt's death-glare – hey, he had learned from the best, his dad could be downright scary when he did that – as Denny's voice once again took on that dreamy, worshipful tone.

"We all work as a team, with trade-offs on the lead vocal," he explained, keeping his gaze focused away from Rachel, who still annoyingly was assigned almost all of the lead solos. "But we do have occasional public performances outside of competition."

"If you really want to hear Kurt at his best, you should attend the Cheerios pep-rallies," Rachel suggested. "He won them Nationals last year with a truly amazing Celine Dion medley. He's really excellent. We were all extremely proud of him."

Kurt's eyebrows rose in shock, then lowered in confusion, then rose again with an odd feeling of pride as she spoke. He had not even realized that Rachel had paid enough attention last year to be aware of his contribution to the squad. "Um, thanks, Rachel."

"You're quite welcome, Kurt." She flashed him that same suspiciously beaming smile as earlier in the choir room, giving him the uncomfortable sensation that he was being marketed and sold like a piece of prime livestock.

Luckily, Denny did not know any of them well enough to take the comments at anything other than face value. "That sounds great! Do you know when they're having another one?"

"We have practice tomorrow," Kurt told him, shooting Rachel vicious looks out of the corner of his eye, "but Coach Sylvester usually just commandeers the gym and expects everyone to attend. We have to be trained and ready to perform at a moment's notice because we never know when an assembly will be ordered."

As if called into existence by his very words, the school intercom crackled and Sue Sylvester's strident bellow washed over the room. "Attention! There will be a mandatory assembly held tomorrow at 9am in the gymnasium to debut the Cheerios new Regional-Championship number. I repeat, this assembly is mandatory! That means if even one of you germ-ridden, snot-faucets is caught lurking in the hallways or hiding out in the nurse's office during the allotted hour, I will _personally_ see to it that capital punishment is reintroduced to the halls of McKinley High."

"Doesn't she mean corporal punishment?" Artie said quietly.

"I wouldn't count on it," Mercedes told him, in the tone of one who has faced down the dragon in its lair and lived to tell the tale.

There was a short pause, then the intercom crackled again and Sue's voice barked, "All Cheerios report for a special practice session in fifteen minutes!"

Kurt sighed and pushed aside the last of his lunch. "I wasn't that hungry anyway. See you, guys. I have to go get my uniform out of my locker and change." He looked to Tina. "Would you mind turning in my homework for me next period?"

"Sure," she agreed, accepting the pages Kurt dug out of his bag. Much as they complained about being made to kowtow to the whims of the maniacal cheerleading coach, none of the instructors at McKinley ever marked a Cheerio student absent after they had received such a summons. "Good luck, Kurt!"

"Thanks." Noticing the disappointed look on Denny's face, Kurt paused long enough to flash him a sincere smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Let me know how you like the assembly."

He nodded happily. "I will. Good luck, Kurt!"

Glad to have a legitimate excuse to avoid making up his mind what he wanted to do about Denny right now, Kurt nonetheless felt a warm surge of emotion when the boy grinned at him.

"I'll take care of him for you, Kurt," Mercedes said, her tone joking but her eyes serious. "Now, you'd better get out of here before Miss Sylvester takes a head-count and decides to chop yours off as an example of what happens to late comers. After all, you wouldn't want to leave poor Denny unsatisfied with your first performance, would you?"

Kurt's eyes widened. Had the innuendo in that statement been deliberate? No . . . surely not. Puck or Santana, absolutely, but not Mercedes!

Then his best friend flashed a wicked grin and Kurt was no longer quite so certain.


	6. Chapter 6

Kurt squeaked into the gym just in time to avoid having the heavy double-doors slammed in his face. He gulped when Coach Sylvester shot him a glare as she threw an industrial sized padlock around the door handles. If you were late to a mandatory Cheerios practice and did not manage to arrive before the lock was thrown, you did not attend at all. Your slot in the assembly would be forfeit and your odds of being the next student thrown off the team in one of Sue's periodic random herd cullings increased exponentially.

Glancing around the gym, Kurt heaved a small sigh of relief at noticing Santana, Brittany and the newly reinstated Quinn had all made it on time, as had Becky Jackson. At least a quarter of the squad had not.

"Well," Sue said, her distinctly calm tone causing more than one student to pale in fear. "I'm glad to see that _some_ of my Cheerios were smart enough to realize that it was less important to shove one more calorie-packed dessert into their already overstuffed stomach cavities than it was to show up for practice today."

Kurt stood up straighter, refusing to give in to the urge to cringe in pity for those missing. The regularly scheduled team practice was _so_ not going to be pretty for them tomorrow afternoon.

Reaching in to the back pocket of her royal blue track suit, Sue whipped a folded piece of paper into view and snapped it open. "This," she said, pausing for effect, "is the official, newly-revised rules list for this year's Regional competition. It seems that the gnawing, tearing, clawing jealousy that lives in the gut of every district cheerleading coach not lucky enough to be named Sue Sylvester has finally churned up enough bile to spew forth onto the judging committee and corrode their weak little minds."

Not sure what was happening, the cheerleaders glanced at one another in nervous speculation.

"This paper," she said again, snapping the page sharply against the palm of her hand and making everyone jump, "states that no competition routine shall exceed a newly imposed 7 minute performance limit. Nor shall any lewd or suggestive behavior be incorporated into any such routine. _Nor_ shall the use of vocal or non-regulation dance moves outweigh the required dance team or cheer squad elements in any given performance. These rules will most likely extend to the National level if my strongly worded letter of protest to the Regionals board goes unheeded."

Kurt could feel his stomach sinking into his shoes, and from the faces of the girls and half dozen fellow guys that surrounded him, he was not alone. The Cheerios had completely steamrolled the competition at last year's Nationals using every trick that had just been banned, depending heavily on the new element of Kurt's own 14-minute powerhouse vocal performance.

"They've hamstrung us," Santana said in disbelief. "Those lousy bastards have turned the entire competition against us just because they couldn't handle us kicking their teams' sorry asses every year! This is so not fair!"

Other similar exclamations echoed throughout the room and Sue waited them out. She liked to stoke the fire in the bellies of her athletes. Allowing them to get fired up in outrage would just make them that much more determined to win. But she also knew exactly how long to let the rage kindle before it could transform into an inferno that would lead to either violence or despair that could transform them from a finely honed blade into a worthless pile of overheated scrap metal.

"What are we going to do, Coach?" asked Becky, her chin trembling as she confusedly watched everyone around her fret and rage.

Ignoring the question, Sue looked at Kurt and said in a quiet voice that more effectively silenced her squad than the most vitriolic use of her beloved mega-phone, "I noticed you haven't said anything yet. What does my current Head Cheerio think about all this?"

Not missing the pointed use of the word 'current', Kurt squared his shoulders. He, more than anyone, would be affected by the new rules which effectively rendered his past participation useless for upcoming competition, and he recognized the challenge being thrown his way. If he could not find a reason to justify his continued existence on the team, he would be cut. Sue Sylvester was giving him a chance because he had done well by her, but she was not one to waste valuable time on pity.

"I noticed that the rules do not state that vocals and non-regulation moves have been banned. Simply that the ratio needs to be equalized. I happen to agree with that. Our most recent routines have been placing such heavy focus on me singing and the girls moving like the latest attraction at a pole-dancing bar that the traditional elements are getting lost. In short, people think we've gotten lazy and will fall on our asses if our crutch is removed. So, let's give them what they're asking for, only more so."

Sue's expression had not changed, but she did not appear displeased, so Kurt hurriedly continued, his brain racing for new ideas even as he spoke.

"I know that Lisa can do a double-back handspring that barely seems contained by gravity. Julie can do twists that make people think she has no joints to worry about. Melanie can do continuous double-layouts that make the rest of us tired just watching her and Becky's cartwheels can now put a Slinkie to shame."

The mentally-challenged girl clapped her hands and immediately turned a simple, but now more than passable, cartwheel in demonstration, earning a smile of approval from Kurt that got him an immediate hug in return.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he continued, "Some of the other girls can do amazing mid-air somersaults as long as the guys can get them enough height. So I suggest that we just incorporate our dance-moves in and around the traditional ones. If both are going on at the same time, the judges can't claim that we're not giving them equal weight. And if a long, multi-lingual vocal presentation was too much fabulosity to handle last year, let me perform something that's shorter, faster and so kick-ass that even culturally stunted minds will appreciate it."

A small smile finally twitched at Sue's narrowly pursed lips. She glanced around at the others. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I promoted him to the top of the heap, while you are all forced to stand below and nip enviously at his high, sequin-covered heels." Glaring them down once more, she barked, "You heard him! Get to work on those new routines, and they'd better be good enough not to embarrass me in at that assembly tomorrow or you'll all consider weekends and social lives a fond memory for the rest of the semester! Hummel, walk with me."

Everyone scrambled into a huddle and began whispering ideas. Kurt scrambled to catch up with Coach Sylvester's ground eating strides as she turned and charged toward the far side of the gym. Stopping by the bleachers at that end, far enough away that nobody could overhear, she jerked her head at him. "Sit."

Like a good little trained puppy, his butt immediately hit the seat.

"Those were all good points you raised, but you had better be prepared to live up to your end," she said with no preamble, staring him down from her even more than usually elevated height. "I like you, Kurt. You know who you are, you know what you want, and you don't take any crap for it. You remind me of a young Sue Sylvester, with the exception of the fact that you use enough products in your hair to suggest that the corruptive influence of one William Schuester over his gullible little band of misfits has reached truly frightening levels of brainwashing potential. On the positive side, it was a move worthy of yours-truly the way you got the entire student body on your side with that little performance you put on yesterday morning."

He gulped. "You mean . . . what happened out by the dumpsters?"

"Are you telling me there was more?"

"No, ma'am," he said quickly.

She huffed. "I've made my stance on Sneaky Gays quite clear, and I'm told that you outed three of them yesterday all by your lonesome; those two mouth-breathing Orangutans and some little freshman who showered you with roses for the favor. I'm impressed. That shows both initiative and a certain amount of style, both hallmark characteristics of a Cheerio."

Kurt appreciated the compliment but felt truly alarmed that he seemed to have no secrets when it came to this woman. "Well, to be honest, I don't think I actually outed Denny. The, um, freshman. I'm pretty sure he didn't need it. He's been pretty open about the fact that he has a crush on me."

"Ahh," she croaked, somehow sounding both revolted and intrigued. "Wants to give you the gold at the end of his rainbow, does he?"

A little grossed-out but at the same time amused that she had reached the same conclusion regarding Denny's appearance that he had, Kurt shrugged.

"Sexual dominance over all lesser beings is, again, nothing less than I would expect from my Head Cheerio." She jerked her head toward the rest of the squad, who were already practicing some rough choreography with combined dance and cheer elements, just as Kurt had suggested. "Now. Do you actually have a song in mind to replace your former selection or were you just spit-balling to try and keep me from bouncing you off the squad?"

"If I can borrow Brittany, Santana and Quinn for backup vocal, I think I can put together a terrific mash-up of Pink's 'Get the Party Started' and Pat Benatar's 'Invincible'." Kurt truly had no idea whether he could blend the two very disparate songs on such short notice on not, but the former had the right amount of sassy, sexy energy to appeal to the Cheerios and the latter was not only the exact kick-ass attitude that the squad needed, but also performed by one of the coach's favorite singers.

Sue Sylvester was not the only one in school with sources.

Sue's nostrils flared. "I find myself both intrigued and strangely aroused by your proposal," she said evenly, ignoring the terror that flashed in her student's eyes. "If you were ten years older and male, I would be forced to act upon my feelings."

Against his better judgment, Kurt indignantly stated, "I _am_ male!"

She looked him up and down, eyebrow raised, and simply grunted. Kurt felt insulted that he could not tell whether she was revising her assessment or expressing continued doubt. On the other hand, maybe it was better not to argue because . . . eww.

Turning her head to the right, Sue raised her mega-phone and snapped, "Brittany, Santana, Quinn! On the double!"

The girls came running.

"Ladyface wants to do a mash-up tomorrow and he needs your help getting it ready in time. For the next 18 hours, you're with him."

She strode away without another word, bellowing orders and insults into her mega-phone. The four Glee kids stared at one another for a long moment, but then Kurt offered them a smile. "Well, the good news is that we're all still on the squad and she hasn't threatened to kill any of us yet. What do you say you help me keep it that way?"

~#~#~#~#~#~

Though Mercedes Jones was not on the Cheerios squad any longer, she was invited to help her friends figure out the blend of Kurt's two song choices, as was Finn. The taller boy had turned out to have something of a knack for mash-ups. They had obtained the permission of Mr. Schuester to practice in the choral practice room after school, not bothering to tell him that their project had to do with Sue Sylvester's team rather than his own.

"No, no, no!" Kurt argued as Quinn pushed – again – for more Benatar and less Pink. "The Pink song is a crowd-pleaser and it's _got_ to come first just to get everybody in the right mood. Besides, we already told the rest of the squad that we were going to use it, so they've choreographed most of their routine around that song. We really only need the chorus of 'Invincible' anyway, just to weave the more kick-ass sections of the dancing in."

"He's right," Mercedes said. "You only need enough of it to show that you've got fighting spirit and a lot of attitude. The blend really isn't that hard to pull off."

"Why are you singing angry chick songs anyway?" Finn wondered. "I mean, I know that Kurt sings a lot of female lead stuff because of his range, but isn't this a little weird?"

Brittany shook her head. "It's sexy when Kurt sings like that," she said in her soft, sing-song tone. "His voice gets this, like, rough quality to it that totally sounds like sex. You never really know for sure if he wants to bond with you or bone you."

Santana snorted but nodded agreement, while Mercedes and Quinn cracked up at Brit's happy assessment, mostly because of the flirty looks she was shooting toward the violently blushing Kurt.

A little grin, somewhat uncomfortable but amused, lit Finn's face. "Oh."

"Can we just get on with this and figure the song out?" Kurt begged. "We need to get it recorded so I can upload it and give copies to the other Cheerios to practice with."

He shook his head. First Denny, then Sue, and now Brittany! Was he exuding some kind of weird, irresistible pheromone this week or something?

As everyone else went back to work, playing with the two songs, Kurt surreptitiously gave himself a sniff. Maybe it was that new brand of body-wash . . .


	7. Chapter 7

All the Cheerios who were invited to participate had shown up to school early on Thursday morning, then been allowed to miss out on first period as they feverishly practiced for the upcoming assembly.

At 9:00 the bell rang, calling all the students into attendance. There were a few minutes of preamble, school announcements and such from Principal Figgins. Then Sue Sylvester came into view and reiterated her disgust, at length, with the newest rules for Cheer competition while the bored student and faculty audience did their best to look interested.

The Cheerios filed out onto the gymnasium floor as their coach ranted. Kurt took his place at the very center of the floor, Brittany, Quinn and Santana forming a line behind him. All four checked their lavalier microphones one last time to be sure they wouldn't shift and fall off during this performance. Kurt had recorded a rough draft of the music and sent it to all of the cheerleaders, then gone home and used his computer to work up a seamless copy of the two blended songs with all of the vocal segments removed.

Somehow, Sue Sylvester was aware of the exact moment her final Cheerio hit their mark, for she cut her diatribe short with the order, "Tell us what the Regional Committee will think of _this_, McKinley!"

She stepped out of the way and a familiar driving rhythm immediately boomed from the overhead speakers at a subtle signal from Kurt to Artie, who was running the A/V club's equipment today.

Girls began flipping and gyrating all across the floor in a gorgeous blend of gymnastic skill and artistic hip-hop dance moves. Becky Jackson rather charmingly cartwheeled her way across the floor at the very front, receiving a curt nod of approval from Sue as she finished and took up a place safely out of the way of the more daring acrobatics.

Kurt waited until the initial frenzy of movement was finished, then as the beat picked up for a second time, the three backup singers each turned a perfect back-flip, then started to sing:

_I'm comin' up so you better get this party started  
I'm comin' up so you better get this party started_

Then Kurt came in, moving forward with a slinky, teasing gait as he took up the main lyrics.

_Get this party started on a Saturday night  
Everybody's waiting for me to arrive  
Sendin' out the message to all of my friends  
We'll be looking flashy in my Mercedes Benz_

He wiggled his fingers invitingly to the girls somersaulting to his left and right and they stalked up to him, ducking down and slithering back up his body to either side as he hitched a smug eyebrow at the captivated crowd.

_I got lots of style, check my gold-diamond rings  
I can go for miles if you know what I mean._

Then Kurt executed a beautiful back handspring that had taken him months to learn, but looked effortless as a result while Britt, Quinn and Santana took up the lyrics and the music shifted.

_We can't afford to be innocent  
stand up and face the enemy.  
It's a do or die situation - we will be invincible._

They were both fierce and flirty, yet they were doing nothing overtly sexy beyond Santana crooking an inviting finger toward a group of boys in the crowd as Brittany and Quinn pumped their fists and snarled:

_This shattered dream you cannot justify.  
We're gonna scream until we're satisfied.  
What are we running for? We've got the right to be angry.  
What are we running for, when there's nowhere we can run to anymore?_

The music took over for a few beats as the Cheerios changed formation, turning their backs on the captivated crowd and giving their full attention to the opposite side of gymnasium. Kurt flashed his best come-hither look at the smiling students, winking at Denny and Mercedes when he noticed them sitting five rows up. Mercedes was grinning widely while Denny looked like he'd been struck in the back of the head with a board.

Ignoring their reactions, Kurt slid his hands down his body and legs, squatting down low to let two of the Cheerios leap-frog him, then he began again, undulating slowly back up as he sang:

_Making my connection as I enter the room  
Everybody's chilling as I set up the groove  
Pumpin' up the volume with this brand new beat  
Everybody's dancing and they're dancing for me_

A different set of girls criss-crossed him in a complicated tumbling pass, while Brittany and Santana came to press themselves against Kurt's sides, practically gluing their bodies against his, while Quinn used an expert lift from another of the male cheerleaders to execute a mid air flip that landed her on Kurt's solidly positioned shoulders. The girls then sang:

_We can't afford to be innocent  
Stand up and face the enemy.  
It's a do or die situation - we will be invincible.  
And with the power of conviction there is no sacrifice.  
It's a do or die situation - we will be invincible!  
_  
The rest of the Cheerios tumbled and spun in a frenzy of motion all across the gym, ending in a choral shout of:

_We will be __**invincible**__!_

There was a moment of silence, then the entire crowd leapt to its feet, cheering and stomping and hollering approval. Kurt held up his hands, which were taken by Quinn as she gracefully hopped down from his shoulders and into his arms. He set her down gently and accepted kisses on the cheeks from Quinn and Santana. Brittany insisted on kissing him full on the mouth, but Kurt did not really mind. He was too pumped with adrenaline to care.

The Cheerios bowed and waved, then turned and jogged off the 'stage' in a neat well-practiced formation. Sue strutted back out onto the floor, taking her own bows as the students continued to cheer. It was obvious to anyone that she was very pleased with her squad's performance.

As they reached the corridor outside the gym, Brittany squealed and embraced Kurt then threw herself at Santana, who laughed and hugged her back hard. Several other Cheerios also insisted on hugging their head-cheerleader, proud of themselves and of him for coming up with the idea.

Kurt was indeed very pleased with himself, but the smile was beginning to feel painted upon his features as he graciously accepted the congratulations of his team. "Thanks, you guys. You were all fantastic! Now, everyone hit the showers and get to your classes before Miss Sylvester decides she wants a full encore performance!"

There was much laughter and agreement and the cheerleaders dashed away, leaving only Kurt and Quinn behind. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly as they began to walk toward the locker rooms at a sedate pace, watching the frozen smile melt from his features.

Surprised, Kurt looked at her. "What makes you think something is wrong?"

Quinn merely raised an expressive eyebrow.

He sighed and stopped walking. "You remember Denny?"

She cocked her head. "Your little freshman admirer that everyone has been talking about? Yes, of course."

Kurt frowned, biting his lower lip. "I saw him sitting with Mercedes up in the bleachers just now."

"And?" she asked patiently.

"He walked out on the performance. Right near the end, before you did your somersault. I saw him. He just stood up and walked right out of the gym without so much as a glance."

She looked a little irritated. "He missed my big finish?" Then, remembering that she was supposed to be offering comfort, she touched Kurt's arm. "You honestly like that boy, don't you?"

Kurt closed his eyes. "I don't know. Maybe. We barely know each other and I still think Denny has just been suffering from a bad case of puppy-love, so I feel creepy for encouraging him, and even creepier for being kind of tempted to take advantage."

"You shouldn't. You've got as much right to love, or lust, or whatever this is, as anyone else. You just don't get much opportunity to express that side of yourself."

Looking her in the eye, he sighed. "No argument there." He shook his head. "For some reason I really wanted to impress him today, and it hurts to know that it didn't work. Guess I was getting used to being admired. How egotistical is _that_?"

Quinn smiled. "It isn't. We all want to be admired by boys. It makes us feel powerful and desired and wanted. It's totally normal. Well, it is as long as you aren't expecting _everyone_ to admire you."

Kurt laughed. "Only the ones with taste."

Joining in his laughter, Quinn punched him in the arm. Behind them, the gymnasium doors opened and students began pouring out into the hallway as the gathering was officially dismissed. Kurt and Quinn received a number of compliments and thumbs-up gestures as they were passed.

Mercedes burst out of the crowd as she spotted Kurt, dragging him and Quinn over to one side, out of earshot of the milling students. "Have either of you seen Denny?"

"I saw him walk out on us," Kurt replied stiffly. "He'd better hope Coach Sylvester didn't notice. She views walking out on a Cheerios performance as being something akin to high treason."

"I'm worried about him," Mercedes blurted. "He was really wrapped up in watching you guys and then he suddenly flushed redder than your uniform pants and took off. I would have followed him, but everybody jumped up and started clapping and I couldn't see which way he went. I think he might have been sick or something."

Guilt washed over Kurt. "He went out the same door you did. If he was sick, I'm guessing he headed for one of the bathrooms at the end of the hallway."

"Let's go find out," Quinn said, jogging toward the restrooms.

Accustomed to Kurt's occasional emergency intrusions into the Girls' room for Slushie cleanup, Quinn and Mercedes did not hesitate to check for the other boy inside there, while Kurt checked the bathroom on the opposite side. They all met back a minute later and indicated that they'd come up empty.

"How about the locker room?" Mercedes suggested. "Aren't there bathrooms in there, too?"

The trio crossed to the opposite end of the hallway and Kurt went inside, leaving the girls to stand guard against intruders.

The advantage to having such an uneven ratio of girls to boys on the cheerleading team was that, for once, the men's locker room was empty. Kurt moved slowly through the room, past the long rows of lockers and into the back beyond the showers, where a line of toilet stalls were located. He could hear the faint sound of sniffling from the one on the end.

"Denny?"

The sniffling ended in a startled hitch of breath. "Go away!"

Saddened by the misery in that shaky-voiced order, Kurt paused, resting his back against a wall instead of moving closer. "I can't. Not until I'm sure you're okay. Mercedes said you might be sick."

There was a pause, then a reluctant, "I'm not. Now will you go away?"

Kurt could not help smiling at that. "Afraid not. What happened? If you're not sick, why did you run out like that? I saw you leave. I was worried it might have been my fault somehow."

"It was."

The words were so soft Kurt almost doubted that he had really heard them. His heart sank, and then rose again on a bubble of hope as he remembered what had been going on when the other boy left. Was it possible that Denny was jealous? "Are you mad at me? You know, because San and Britt were rubbing against me? That was just for show, I promise. Part of the performance to get the audience involved."

"Oh, I know that," he said, matter-of-factly. Then his voice dropped back as he begged again, "Please go away, Kurt."

Kurt did not get it. Denny was not sick, he was not mad, apparently he was not jealous, and yet, all this upset was apparently due to something Kurt had done. But what? The routine had not contained anything upsetting or vulgar, after all, just some moves and actions that were a little bit . . . suggestive.

Oh! Kurt's eyes widened, his mind suddenly flashing back to the time Finn Hudson had treated the glee club to his sexy, flirty rendition of The Doors' "Hello, I Love You." The song had not been directed at him, of course, but Kurt had become so caught up in the performance that he had damn near had an orgasm right there in the middle of Glee. And he _had_ required a quick side trip to the restroom the moment the song was over.

Was it possible?

"Denny?" he tried again, timidly. Crap, how did one go about asking something like this without making it worse? "I . . . I have some extra clothes in my Cheerios locker if you need them."

There was a long silence, then the stall door opened, revealing a tear-streaked, humiliated face. "You know, don't you?"

Kurt nodded, unable to keep from glancing down, but immediately forcing his eyes back to poor Denny's red face when he saw the evident dampness staining his pale blue jeans. "I'm sorry. If it helps, I don't think anyone else does. Like I said, Mercedes thought you were sick. I won't tell her what really happened."

"It's never been like that before," he whispered, cheeks flaming. "I didn't even know it was going to happen until it just . . . did."

Kurt smiled sympathetically. "Trust me, I understand. It's okay, Denny. It's flattering, actually, to know you like me that much."

Moving away to give the boy some space, Kurt found the locker he had stored his street clothes in this morning. He rarely chose to wear his Cheerios uniform all day the way many of his fellow squad-members did, preferring his own stylish wardrobe, but it would not hurt anything if he did so today. It was a good thing that Denny was so petite. Most of Kurt's friends would have popped the seams right out of his skinny jeans, if they could squeeze into them in the first place.

"Here," he offered, holding out a neatly folded bundle. "I didn't do the same amount of exercise as the rest of the squad, really, so it won't matter if I skip the shower and just leave my uniform on."

A smile finally broke free. "I can really borrow your clothes?"

Kurt smiled back. "Just don't spill anything on that sweater, okay? It's one of my favorites. Genuine Alexander McQueen."

Denny clutched the bundle tightly in his arms. "Thank you."

There was such genuine gratitude in his tone that Kurt felt a surge of tenderness well up inside of him. This wasn't that confusing, squirm-inducing hero-worship that had made Kurt so uncomfortable before. It was something much more akin to friendship. Affection. Something real that he could grab onto without feeling like it would break apart under the pressure.

He impulsively leaned closer and, pausing just long enough to be sure that Denny understood what he was about to do, pressed his lips gently against the other boy's. Kurt was no expert, but the startled gasp and the stiff pressure of Denny's slightly chapped lips against his were enough to tell him that this was almost certainly Denny's first kiss.

"Thank _you_," he whispered back. Having made the first move, Kurt found himself very much wanting to continue, but now was not the time and this certainly was not the place. "I think maybe we ought to talk."

A sweet, heartbreakingly beautiful smile broke over Denny's dazed features. He nodded eagerly. "I'd like that."

Kurt reluctantly backed away. "I don't have Cheerios this afternoon. Coach Sylvester told us this morning that she would be holding a special practice just for those who missed out on the one she had yesterday." He nearly shivered at that thought. Those kids would be mere shells of their former selves by tomorrow, he was certain. He was glad to have gained permission to avoid the carnage. "Maybe we could go somewhere for awhile."

"You mean like a date?" Denny asked, awe in his voice.

_Oh, hell. Well, why not? You already kissed him!_

He nodded. "I'll buy you a burger or something. If you're not busy today."

"I'm not busy," he replied quickly.

Kurt smiled. "Then it's a date. I'll see you then."

Outside the locker room, Mercedes and Quinn waited impatiently. "Well?" Mercedes demanded the moment he came into view. "Judging by how long you were in there, I'm guessing you must have found him."

"I did," he said. "He's okay now. Something just upset him. I invited him to have a snack with me after school to talk more about it."

He did his best to keep the statement casual, but the knowing grins that spread over both his friends' faces told Kurt instantly that he had failed. "Don't tell anyone about this, okay? At least not until I've had a chance to talk to him?"

"We promise," Quinn said serenely. "Good going, Kurt!"

She punched him in the arm and his aggravated voice echoed up and down the empty hallway as he ordered, "Quit doing that!"


	8. Chapter 8

If William Schuester had been expecting a class full of attentive and eager students to his 3rd period Spanish class on Thursday, he was doomed to disappointment. Most of the class was busy whispering and passing notes.

After the sixth time one of his students simply gave him a blank look in return for his request for a simple translation, the teacher perched on his desk and addressed them all. "All right, you guys. It's pretty clear by now that none of you bothered to study the passages I assigned you as homework last night. It wasn't even that difficult an assignment. Mostly a review, in fact. I was fully expecting you to all cruise through it with flying colors. What's going on with all of you?"

The question managed to gain Kurt's attention. He had, up until that moment, been staring out the window and daydreaming about all the possibilities inherent in his upcoming date and potential new relationship with Denny Payson. "We're sorry, Mr. Shue," he said sincerely. He looked around the room. The class was made up of about half Cheerios students. "Many of us were preparing for this morning's mandatory assembly. We received orders to completely reinvent our former routine and I, for one, was up all night getting ready for it."

Schuester cast him one of those outwardly sympathetic but inwardly indifferent smiles that Kurt truly hated. They were the same ones he always gave in Glee when promising some token pat-on-the-head high note or vocal run to one of them in recompense for having assigned all the good stuff to Rachel and Finn. "I'm sorry, Kurt, but I gave this assignment before Miss Sylvester made her announcement yesterday and, as much as she would like to deny it, cheerleading is an extracurricular activity and your regular class work supersedes it."

Kurt hung his head at the rebuke. He'd had it coming and he knew full well that he had very little power over Mr. Schuester today, having had to skip out on yet another Glee rehearsal this morning to prepare for the assembly, but it would not hurt to try. Keeping his tone very polite, he said, "Perhaps you could allow us to make it up? Please?"

The teacher considered him for a moment, then looked at his other students. "If I give you guys a second chance, do you all promise to do better?" Heads nodded eagerly all over the class. Schuester wasn't a difficult task-master by any means and they wanted to keep it that way. He smiled at them. "All right then. In light of the fact that you've all been doing so well lately, I'm going to assign the same homework as yesterday, but this time I expect you to actually _do_ it. There'll be a quiz on the subject tomorrow, just to make sure you've kept up your end of the deal."

Amidst all the groaning, Kurt flashed Mr. Schuester a smile of gratitude. He had a deal with his dad that he could do all the extra activities he liked as long as his grades stayed high, and he would have hated to blow that by failing a class he considered one of his easiest. Mercedes and Tina were invited over to his house for a sleepover and pre-shop-and-spa gossip extravaganza tomorrow night – Gage and Puck would be meeting them at the mall Saturday morning to begin paying off the second half of a bet they had recently lost - and Kurt had been counting on not having any homework to do. He needed to stay on the good side of all authority figures.

When the bell rang, Kurt lingered a moment. His English class was just across the hall, so there was no need to rush. "I really am sorry about dropping everything for the Cheerios, Mr. Shue. Especially Glee. I didn't want to miss it again today, but Miss Sylvester was kind of on a rampage and frankly, she's a lot scarier than you are."

Schuester turned away from the blackboard, where he had been busily erasing his notes, and snorted a laugh. "Believe me, I understand. I don't like it, but I _do_ understand. You know, I had wondered why New Directions was assigned an actual class period this year; first period, no less. Then a third of my students started disappearing on a regular basis for 'emergency' Cheerio programs and suddenly it all became clear."

"Sue doesn't give up anything without a fight."

"That is definitely true," Will agreed, coming around to perch on the edge of his desk and give Kurt his full attention. He smiled, taking in the proud red and white uniform he wore. "You guys were really amazing this morning. I should have told you that earlier. And you personally sounded exceptional, Kurt. Finn tells me you arranged that mash-up yourself."

He nodded, suddenly, unexpectedly shy at finding himself the recipient of that warm, approving gaze that was usually reserved for Mr. Shue's two pet singers.

"Maybe it's time I started paying closer attention to the talent that's right in front of me," he said, and Kurt was surprised to realize that he was entirely serious. "You've wanted your own solo number since last year's diva-off, and I've been thinking for a while now that you should have another chance. How'd you like the opening solo in our upcoming Invitational performance? If it goes over well, maybe we'll even be able to use the number for Sectionals."

Unable to speak for the sudden excitement filling him, Kurt nodded vigorously.

"I don't know what song just yet, but I'll give it some thought tonight and let you know what I come up with tomorrow. The sooner we can get you started rehearsing, the better, and then you can present your performance to the entire club next week," he decided. "How does that sound?"

It was only the sure and certain knowledge that Schuester would freak out that kept Kurt from throwing his arms around the teacher's neck and hugging him in gratitude. He hugged his notebook and textbooks tightly instead. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Mr. Shue. It . . . I'm . . . just, thank you."

Schuester patted him on the shoulder. "You deserve it. Now, you'd better get to class before Mr. Curtis marks you tardy."

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks again!" he called over his shoulder, practically floating to his next class. He had kicked ass at the Cheerios assembly and pleased the ever-demanding Coach Sylvester. He had kissed a sweet boy and had his invitation of a date enthusiastically accepted. And now Mr. Shue had _finally_ assigned him his very own Glee solo. What a _day _this was turning out to be!

~#~#~#~#~#~

Kurt managed, only by sheerest willpower, to avoid immediately spilling his guts to his friends about the day's events as they chattered their way through lunch. He wanted to hold his delightful secrets close to his own heart for a while, still needing to process the reality of them. So instead, he skillfully steered Mercedes' attention in the direction of Terrell Fisher, a tall, muscular drink of hot chocolate who was both a star wrestler and this year's school newspaper editor. Brains and brawn in the same beautiful package, and an extremely nice guy to boot; a distinct rarity at McKinley High. He was sitting three tables over, feeding himself a slice of cake with a level of slow, decadent, hedonistic enjoyment that had Mercedes fanning herself as she watched.

"Damn, to be a slice of devil's food," she sighed, setting the others laughing. "It should be illegal to be that fine."

"You should go talk to him!" Tina told her. "He's sitting there all by himself, with only a slice of cake to love. I'll bet he'd really appreciate some company."

Kurt nudged her. "I agree. You should totally make a play for him. I know he's not dating anyone, I asked Brittany for you." It was a well known fact that while Brittany knew very little else about anything, her mind was like a steel-trap when it came to social activity. She could be relied upon to know exactly who was dating whom, when it had started or ended, and exactly how serious it was. Kurt suspected there could be a lucrative tabloid-journalism career in her future. "Why should Rachel and Quinn get all the hot guys?"

"I would object to that," Artie told them, "but sadly, I too, would make a play for that guy if I were either one of you."

Kurt held up his hands. "Oh, no, leave me out of this. I'm already spoken for . . . or at least I'm working on it."

"Did I miss something?" Tina asked eagerly. "Has there been new progress on the Denny front?"

"He got jealous when Brittany and Santana were grinding on Kurt during the Cheerios number this morning and ran off," Mercedes told her, jumping to her own conclusion which Kurt did not bother to correct since he had promised Denny he would not. She grinned slyly. "Kurt went into the locker room to talk to him and I don't know what happened in there, but he came out almost ten minutes later having gotten forgiveness _and_ a date for this afternoon."

Kurt had told her that much during English class, avoiding any more details by claiming to be vitally interested in the works of Shakespeare. He was tutoring a couple of the jocks in their class, so Mercedes had thankfully bought into his need to take good notes.

"Right on, boy! Give me some!" Artie declared, holding up his fist.

Kurt laughed and gave him a bump. It warmed his heart that Artie was just as enthusiastic about Kurt possibly getting a boyfriend as he would be for any of his female friends. "Thank you, but don't think we're changing the subject," he said, glancing once again at Terrell. The boy had finished his cake and moved on to a slice of pizza. "Now, you have got to admire somebody who has his priorities straight. He's clearly a man who loves sweet indulgences. I'll bet I could suggest a hot and sweet diva-licious lady who would be a perfect match for him."

Mercedes giggled, blushing cutely as she pressed her forehead against Kurt's shoulder. "He's a senior, _and _he gorgeous. What makes you think he'd even look my way?"

Pushing his chair back, Kurt stood and planted a fist on his hip. "Mercedes Jones, I am just going to pretend that I did _not_ hear that ridiculous statement. Now, are you going to go over there and make a move, or do I have to do everything around here myself?"

"Oh, Kurt, no! I couldn't."

Waving his hand airily, Kurt strode over to the jock's table, ignoring Mercedes' horrified gasp.

"Excuse me," he said, reaching Terrell's side. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mercedes watching him. She looked embarrassed but also a little bit hopeful, making up his mind. If she had been angry or honestly objective, he would have simply made up an excuse. As it was, he could be honest. "Terrell Fisher?"

The startled editor looked up, pizza slice poised halfway in and out of his mouth. He put the pizza down and wiped his fingers off on a napkin. "That's right. You're Kurt Hummel, aren't you?"

A bit surprised by the recognition, he nodded. "Yes. May I join you for a moment?" Terrell gestured to an empty seat. "Thank you. I don't wish to keep you from your lunch so I'll be blunt. I'm told that you're not dating anyone at present and I happen to know of someone who is interested in you, but she is unfortunately shy, leaving it to me as her best friend to facilitate introductions."

Terrell had looked very much alarmed as Kurt began his speech, but relaxed as soon as the pronoun 'she' escaped his lips. Kurt almost laughed, realizing how he must have sounded and that, if the other boy knew him by name, then he probably also knew of Kurt's personal taste. It wasn't much of a secret around this school.

"Well, uh, that's . . . that's flattering. Who are we talking about, exactly?"

"Do you know Mercedes Jones?"

His eyes instantly flicked to Kurt's table, proving that he did indeed, and Kurt was pleased to see a flash of interest in the boy's light hazel eyes. In contrast with his coffee-colored skin and neatly trimmed jet-black hair, those eyes were very striking indeed.

"Yeah, a little. She was with the rest of you Cheerios for a while, right? I also heard her sing when I covered you guys at the Regional choir championship for the school paper last year. She's really amazing."

Cute, smart and now a man of excellent musical taste. This was getting better all the time!

"She is," he agreed warmly. "So, what do you say? Would you like to meet her?"

Terrell smiled, eyes never leaving Mercedes, who looked cautiously excited by the attention. "Definitely."

Kurt stopped him from getting up. "No, you stay here. I'll send her over. You two can talk over lunch!"

It took great effort to walk back to his own table at a normal pace when he really wanted to dash over, grab Mercedes by the arm and dance her around the cafeteria. "He'd love to meet you, Mercedes. Said he's heard you sing a few times and really loved your voice."

"Really?" she squeaked.

"Of course, really! I told you, honey, you've got it going on and now it's time to share the wealth."

Mercedes laughed and gave him a tight hug. "No matter what happens next, you know you'll always be my number one boy, right?"

"And you'll always be my girl," he told her, squeezing back. "Now get over there and show him what he's been missing all this time. I'll expect you to call me with a full report tonight."

"Ditto on your date with Denny!"

He watched her leave and go sit down with Terrell, feeling a strange mixture of pride and regret in his heart. A few random and impossible crushes aside, they'd been each other's one and only for a year and a half. Completely platonic, but a real couple just the same. It hurt a little to see that changing, even if he had been the one to initiate the change.

"Our babies are leaving the nest," Artie said to Tina, whipping a handkerchief out of his sweater-vest and playfully wiping his eyes.

Tina nodded mournfully and patted his hand. "Well, dear, we knew it had to happen one day."

Kurt laughed, his good mood restored by their antics. "Oh, shut up."


	9. Chapter 9

The second half of a school day had never passed so slowly. Kurt could not keep his mind on academic subjects and his unusual fidgeting – everything from drumming on his desk to twirling his pencil like a miniature baton – was drawing annoyed looks from every teacher.

History, his last class, was particular torture. Kurt did not like his instructor, who had a pointed face, creepy protuberant eyes and was constantly licking his lips, giving him a rather unfortunate resemblance to a chameleon lizard. And Kurt was absolutely certain that not one interesting sentence had passed the man's lips in his entire 20 years tenure. In fact, it was commonly suspected that he had been delivering the same lectures word-for-word every year, to whatever class of students was unfortunate enough to fall into his clutches.

Finally, mercifully, the bell rang and Kurt sprang from his seat with enough force to nearly knock his desk over. He caught it and nodded a hasty apology to the glaring instructor, grabbed his bag and ran.

Wanting to be the one to surprise Denny at his locker for a change, Kurt sprinted down the hallway toward the freshman wing, ducking around his fellow students with a nimble precision that spoke more of his years dodging bullies than his agility as a cheerleader.

As he reached the proper section of the school, it suddenly occurred to Kurt that he had no idea which locker belonged to his friend. Spotting one of the Slushie-bearing students he had met the day before, Kurt tapped her on the shoulder. "Hi, could you help me with something?"

The girl turned around and gasped, clutching her backpack like a lifeline as she fell back against a locker with a loud clang. Her eyes went wide and her mouth worked with no words coming out. "Me?" she finally squeaked.

Kurt bit his tongue in an effort not to laugh. God, this was weird. The fawning had died down a little since Tuesday, but most of the school's freshmen were still looking at Kurt as if he were some sort of celebrity. Of course, having the Head Cheerio showing up in their midst and searching out one of their own _was_ rather unusual.

"I'm supposed to meet Denny Payson. Do you know where I can find him?"

"Oh!" she breathed, her blue eyes taking on a shocked look that Kurt did not entirely like. "You mean it's true? Really? Wow, _nobody_ believed it when he said he was going _out_ with you!"

Kurt bristled, assuming she was making some kind of crack about them being a same-sex couple. "Why not? Is there some reason he shouldn't?"

The girl's acne-sprinkled face scrunched up in confusion. "What? No! Anybody would go out with _you_! You're totally . . . ," she gestured up and down his body, her blatantly approving expression making Kurt shift in discomfort, "but Denny is . . . well, look!"

Kurt followed her pointing hand and groaned. At the opposite end of the corridor, three larger boys were backing Denny into the small space between the long rows of lockers. Kurt could not hear what they were saying to him, but poor Denny looked tiny and absolutely terrified as he scrunched into the slot in an effort to back farther away from them. Kurt had never seen the boys before, but it was clear that they had already put themselves in the running for the title of Head Bully so recently vacated by David Karofsky.

"Damn it!" he whispered viciously. It had not even taken a week!

Striding down the corridor with a determined expression that any of Kurt's friends would have recognized as trouble, he reached the small group and growled, "Let go of my friend."

Two of the boys were about Kurt's size and the third, a greasy-haired thug in a Letterman jacket, was half a head taller. All were dismayingly beefy. _What the __**hell**__; do the jocks all chug steroid-shakes before breakfast around here? _

"Well, well, if it isn't Little Miss Cheerio," the tallest boy scoffed. "What's up, Cheerio? You got the whole school kissing your ass now, so you thought you'd come slumming down freshman hall looking for some fresh meat?"

Another of the boys laughed. "Everybody knows Hummel's a back-door man. Not much to choose from around here so he probably figured he'd do this little faggot a favor and pop his cherry for him. Not like anybody else is gonna do it."

"Come on, Rick, you _know_ he's already tapping it," the other minion chimed in, his picture-perfect smile turned ugly by the sneer twisting it. "Why else would the little cock-sucker be wearing Hummel's clothes today?"

Kurt's expression had gone cold but his eyes were snapping like sparks of blue flint. "How do you know they're mine?" he asked pointedly. "Been checking me out for yourself?"

"What? No!" he squawked, alarmed when the other two cast him a suspicious glance.

"And what about you, _Ricky_?" Kurt demanded, fixing his gaze on the second boy. "You so far out of luck finding a girl willing to shine your brass that you're forced to hump the leg of one of your buddies here, while you all prove to each other how _tough_ you are by ganging up three-to-one against a kid half your size?"

Sensing that he was losing his helpers but unwilling to back down while he had what suddenly looked like half the school standing by watching his performance, the ring-leader puffed himself up so that he was staring Kurt down from a height of several inches. "Don't let this poufy little ass-driller get inside your heads, you guys," he ordered. "He's nothing but a chick with a dick and we can take him down, easy."

"You know, I've had just about enough of your mouth, you pea-brained, knuckle-dragging asshole," Kurt snarled, his rage flaring higher as the slurs continued.

Three against one odds were not at all in his favor, especially considering the size difference, but having experienced the power and boost in self-esteem that came with two weeks of complete respect from his peers, Kurt found that he was no longer willing to back down to the kind of hurtful name calling he had been subjected to for all those years that everyone was branding him a loser.

Even more important, he was not going to let Denny; sweet, loving, still wonderfully innocent Denny, be dragged through the same hell he had suffered. Not if he could stop it.

Using a move he had picked up from Sue Sylvester's personal playbook, Kurt's right hand shot out and captured the meaty paw still buried in Denny's borrowed clothing – twisting and damaging his very own beloved blue and black striped McQueen sweater – squeezing the fleshy part of the other boy's thumb joint.

The bully howled in pain and released his grip, unable to fight the reflex when his clenched fingers popped open of their own accord. Kurt did not let go, in turn, instead fastening his other hand hard over the trapezes muscle – what Artie would have called a Spock-pinch - and dragging him away from his victim.

"This stops, right now!" he warned, keeping his voice quiet and even, looking the two startled accomplices in the eye and determinedly ignoring the whimpering jock in his grasp. "This is supposed to be high school, boys, not kindergarten. Picking on littler kids and acting like a pack of brainless trolls will _not_ get you admired, it will _not_ get girls to fall at your feet, it will _not_ gain you respect from anyone except another bully! What it _will_ do is force every other student in this school to assume that you must be seriously overcompensating for something you apparently lack."

He raised a contemptuous eyebrow and glanced pointedly below their belts, causing their faces to flush angrily.

"You want people to think you're tough? Then **be** tough! Be a man! Show people that you're worthy of their respect by showing other people respect. For God's sake, be _better_ than all the knuckle-dragging Neanderthal jocks who've come before you with their Slushies and dumpsters, treating weaker, poorer, socially misfit kids like garbage just because they're different!"

Kurt was furious, all the words he had so much wanted to say for all these years bubbling over his lips like lava from a live volcano. He had all but forgotten his audience until the hallway suddenly burst with applause. At such close range, it sounded even louder than the applause at that morning's Cheerio assembly, and Kurt jumped in shock.

Releasing Denny's tormenter, Kurt pushed him toward his friends and held out his hand to Denny. "You okay?" he asked gently. "Did they hurt you?"

Denny's eyes were filled with tears but his face was beaming with pride. "No. Thanks to you!"

Pulling him closer, Kurt wrapped a protective arm around the smaller boy's shoulders and glared hotly at the three much meeker looking bullies. "Dennis Payson is off limits from now on, do you hear me? Any of you touch him and I will make you _wish_ you had never laid eyes on either one of us."

"I'd listen to him if I were you," another, very familiar voice chimed in. A voice that made Kurt tense in instinctive reaction at finding it right behind him. A brawny forearm came to rest on Kurt's shoulder and then Dave Karofsky was flashing the suddenly frightened-looking trio a very unfriendly smile. "They don't call Hummel a BAMF for nothing. But if you can't remember that, just consider me and my friends here to be helpful reminders."

Kurt glanced over his shoulder, only then noticing that Titans football players Azimio, Pujols and Parker were all lined up behind him, cracking their knuckles and glaring daggers at the three younger and far punier jocks.

The younger ring-leader, whose name Kurt still did not know, gulped hard. "S-sorry, Dave. I-I didn't . . . I mean, if we'd known they were friends of yours . . ."

"Get the hell out of my sight!" Karofsky snapped. "And if I _ever_ hear another homophobic slur come out of one of your filthy little mouths, I'll break your damned jaws for you!"

The three of them took off running, tails figuratively tucked between their legs.

Kurt turned, gently steering Denny with a hand on his shoulder in addition to the one slung safely around his arms. He looked at the testosterone brigade with questioning eyes.

Azimio flashed him a smile and it occurred to Kurt that he had never seen that particular expression cross this particular face before. Ever!

"We've given you a lot of shit, Hummel," Azimio grunted, "but you did Dave and me a solid in spite of all that. Figured we owed you one."

"Well, we don't owe you shit," Miguel Pujols said with a cheeky grin, nudging a laughing Jon Parker. "We just heard what was going on down here and thought a little ass-whoopin' sounded like fun!"

Kurt shook his head at the smug, mind-bogglingly friendly group of athletes. "How did you hear?"

"Some girl with a face like a pizza came racing through the hallway shrieking about you getting into a fight in the freshman wing," Karofsky told him with a shrug. "I didn't have anything better to do."

A smile stretched across Kurt's face, knowing that was a lie. Every one of these guys was probably making themselves late for some kind of sports practice by being here. Letting go of Denny's shoulder, Kurt held out his hand, not knowing if it would be accepted or not.

"Don't make a habit out of this, Queer-Eye," Karofsky grunted, shaking his hand firmly. "Next time we might not be here to back you up."

"I think the threat that you might be, should be enough," he replied honestly. Then, Kurt grinned. "If it isn't enough, I think I can convince Coach Sylvester to go have a little chat with those guys on my behalf."

Azimio actually laughed. "Damn, Dave, I told you the little bitch was vicious!"

"You know it," Kurt said cheekily. Watching the jocks go on their way, he smiled down at his young friend, but his satisfaction quickly turned to pity when Denny's still-brimming tears suddenly spilled over and he snuggled closer, wrapping both arms around Kurt's body and hugging him tightly.

After a moment's hesitation, not used to such gestures in public, Kurt returned the hug, pressing his cheek against the side of Denny's head and holding him tightly. He could feel trembling in the younger boy's slight form.

"It's okay, Denny," he whispered. "It's all over now."

A wet sniffle revealed the redhead's struggle to calm down. "That's the second time you've saved me," he murmured. "Three if you count the clothes."

Kurt smiled. "I'd do it all again if I had to. You're worth it."

Denny looked up into Kurt's blue-green eyes with wide, wonder-filled brown ones. Kurt glanced around. Now that the show was over, even the lure of romance had not been enough to keep the onlookers from escaping the confines of school and they were mostly alone in the hallway.

The impulse to kiss Denny again was very strong but Kurt resisted the pull, simply using his thumbs to brush away the tears staining those cutely freckled cheeks. He had promised that they would talk and after what he had just done – a realization that had Kurt himself shaking in reaction – he knew that the likelihood of Denny's attraction being based on nothing more than an idealized image had just increased ten-fold.

He had charged into a potentially dangerous situation alone and without a second thought because the wonderful day he'd been having had made him feel powerful, invincible, but Denny could not know how easily that impulse could have backfired. So far, this boy had only seen the confident Cheerio, the brave bad-ass, the hero who came to his rescue time and again. He knew nothing of the real Kurt Hummel. He did not really see Kurt as a _person _yet; a regular guy with fears and faults, dreams and ambitions, insecurities and annoying quirks. Kurt, in turn, knew next to nothing about Denny. And it scared him. Nobody had ever _really_ wanted him before. What if they got to know each other as people and then turned out to have nothing in common? Or worse, what if Denny got to know the real Kurt, and then found out that he did not like him, after all?

Kurt took a deep breath, allowing his doubts to melt away. This was the test everybody faced sooner or later, right? It was time to stop playing 'What-If' and take a chance.

"Come on," he invited, pulling away and taking a light grasp on Denny's left hand, swinging it between their bodies as they began to walk. "I believe you and I have a date to keep."


	10. Chapter 10

After a quick trip to their lockers, the two boys headed outside. They were on the far end of the school from the student parking lot, and they strolled along slowly, Denny taking hold of Kurt's hand again as they walked. A warm feeling surged through Kurt. Even the scowl of open disapproval they received from a pair of passing adults could not dim the pleasure, because Denny did not drop his hand or look embarrassed and do that horrible 'Gay? We're not gay! Our hands must've just brushed against each other!' thing that any other boy he knew would have done in lieu of showing open affection to another boy.

Swallowing down a hard lump of emotion, Kurt gave the delicate hand a squeeze. "You're a pretty brave guy, you know that?"

Denny looked startled. "Me? I'm not brave." He turned his face away, looking very much ashamed as he brushed at the corners of his eyes, which were still a little wet from his earlier show of tears. "I'm not anything like you. I was really scared back there."

"You think I wasn't?" Kurt countered, earning himself a surprised look. "Oh, I'll admit that I wasn't scared at first. I was too mad to be scared, but when Karofsky and the others showed up, just for a second it was all I could do not to take off running."

Confusion wrinkled the smaller boy's face. "But why? They were on your side."

Kurt snorted. "For the first time _ever._ Denny, those guys and others just like them have been making my life miserable ever since I was eleven years old. That was when puberty started doing things to me that it wasn't doing to any of the other boys my age."

Denny smiled at his embarrassed eye-roll. "I was thirteen. What my mom calls a late-bloomer, but I know what you mean." He blushed and plucked at Kurt's borrowed sweater. "Guess you already figured that out. Did you know how you were before then?"

Letting go of the other boy's hand, Kurt wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave them a squeeze. Denny responded at once, tucking his own arm around Kurt's waist and slowing his gait a bit to match Kurt's casual pace, heaving a very contented little sigh.

"Definitely. I figured out I was gay before I even started school," Kurt admitted. "I didn't have a name for how I felt yet, but I knew. Eleven is just when the other kids started figuring it out, and that's when the shoving and name-calling and all the rest of it started. For years, I was too scared to admit the truth to anyone. I couldn't even find the courage to come out to my own father until midway through last year! Not until I'd helped the team win a football game, something I thought would make him proud enough of me that I could risk being honest."

Denny looked astonished. "You played football? How could you do that and be a cheerleader at the same time?"

Kurt took a moment to explain the events of his sophomore year, ending with, "It turns out that Dad had known the truth all along. He just wanted to give me the space to tell him in my own time."

"At least you did it better than me," Denny said, cheeks flushing. "I actually asked my family at dinner one night why I was the only guy at school who seemed to realize that boys were cuter than girls. It was quite a conversation stopper."

Kurt laughed. "I can imagine. How did they take it?"

"They were actually really cool about it, like your dad. Everybody just stared at me for a while, then my brother Steven said, 'Gay, huh? I kinda figured. Pass the green beans.' and everybody started laughing and the ice was broken. Except that my parents gave me a seriously embarrassing version of the safe-sex talk before I went to bed that night."

Kurt smiled and made a sweeping gesture. "And now look at you; barely fifteen; out and proud and openly declaring your interest in another guy to the entire school and beyond. Don't even try to tell me that you're not brave after that, Denny, because I know better."

Denny shrugged but looked very flattered by Kurt's words. "I've never done anything like that before but I just couldn't help myself. I really meant what I said about you being awesome, Kurt. And when I found out you were also gay, it just made you . . ."

"Awesomer?" Kurt supplied with a laugh, seeing him flail for a proper description.

He grinned. "Yes!" As they reached the first row of parked cars, Denny changed the subject. "Where are we going anyway?"

"I believe I promised you hamburgers, but it doesn't have to be that if you'd rather go someplace else."

"But it _can_ be that, right?" Denny said hopefully.

"Sure, if that's what you want. Any preference?"

"There's a Kewpee's over on Grand. I like them and they have salad and things if you don't want burgers. Somebody told me that Miss Sylvester doesn't let any of her kids eat real food while they're training for competitions and things."

Kurt laughed. "She is pretty tough on us, but I think I can run the risk. And I love that place. My dad and I used to go all the time. It's right down the street from the shop."

"What kind of shop?"

Kurt was a bit startled by the question. His dad's store was one of the best and busiest in Lima, well known to what seemed like everybody. He had forgotten that Denny was new in town. "He owns an auto shop and tire store; Hummel Tires and Lube. When I was a kid, I used to go to the shop every day after school, and on Friday evenings Dad would take me out to eat after he closed up for the night. It used to be kind of our own special thing."

"How come you stopped?" Denny asked, than interrupted himself to go saucer-eyed at the huge black vehicle that beeped to life at a touch of Kurt's remote keychain. "Whoa, this is _yours_?"

"Yep, this is my baby. Isn't she beautiful?" Kurt agreed, pride filling his voice as he ran a loving hand over the polished hood, escorting Denny to the passenger side and opening the door for him with a playful bow. "After you, sir."

Denny grinned and scrambled up into the plush leather seat. "Wow_. _My parents don't even drive a car this nice!"

Shutting the door, Kurt crossed to his own side and climbed in. "Well, like I said, my dad owns an auto shop. He got a really good deal on it for my sweet-sixteen."

"That's so cool. When I get my license, I probably won't get my own car for at least two years and I'll have to get a job and pay for part of it myself," he said, sounding a little grouchy at that thought. "That's what my parents did with all of my older brothers."

"How many do you have?"

"Three. One's grown up and two are in college, plus I have a little sister. She's twelve and a total brat. Do you have any brothers or sisters, Kurt?"

Kurt felt a little guilty, realizing from those few comments that Denny's family probably didn't have a lot of money and that he had a bad habit of flaunting his fancy car and designer clothes in an effort to make other people envy him. "Um, no, I don't. My mom passed away when I was seven and she'd been sick a long time. She couldn't have any more kids after I was born. I do have a sort-of step family, though. My dad has a girlfriend who lives with us, her and her son. Have you ever seen Finn Hudson at school? Quarterback, center for the basketball team, male lead for the glee club; pretty much the star of everything he goes out for?"

"Is that the super-tall guy with the goofy smile?"

Kurt grinned. "That's him. My dad's girlfriend, Carole, is Finn's mom so Finn is my house-mate and eventual step-brother, or so I assume if Dad ever gets around to popping the question."

"Is that why you and your dad don't go to Kewpee's after work any more? Cause you guys have a new family to go home to?"

A little surprised by the quick connection, Kurt nodded. "Part of it. I didn't hang out at Dad's garage as often once I started high school, though, and he's always been really cool about letting me do my own thing and try out any extra-curricular activities I was interested in." He laughed. "One time in freshman year, I decided to try out the cooking class that the Home-Ec teacher, Miss Henshaw, was holding after school. God, I made poor Dad suffer through _dozens_ of inedible meals before I finally sort of got the hang of it."

Denny grinned and cocked his head. "Sort of?"

Kurt gave him a sheepish look. "I can do plain cooking without much danger now, but I've always had something of a flair for the dramatic and. . . Well, let's just say that Dad and I got to know our local fire department really, really well. He banned me from all attempts at gourmet cuisine after the third time I set off the fire alarm. Lucky for both of us, Carole is a really amazing cook."

A delighted chortle bubbled over Denny's lips, making Kurt laugh too. It was a very sweet sound, with something of the bubbly infectious quality of a baby's laugh, though Kurt kept that observation to himself, having a strong feeling that it would insult the other boy.

They chatted easily as Kurt drove and by the time they had reached the restaurant and ordered their afternoon snack – a plain burger, side salad and diet Coke for Kurt and an astonishing two deluxe cheeseburgers, a mound of fries and a large milkshake for Denny – they were well on the way to becoming very good friends.

"How on earth are you going to eat all that?" Kurt asked as their meal was delivered and Denny began at once to demolish the French-fries with single minded determination. "It makes my stomach hurt just looking at it!"

Denny blinked at him, his cheeks bulging around the huge bite of hamburger he had just chomped. He chewed a few times and gulped the bite down loudly, making Kurt wince at the sound. "This is what I always order," he said, clearly puzzled by the question.

Kurt laughed. "Remind me to introduce you to Finn. Something tells me you guys are going to get along just fine."


	11. Chapter 11

Kurt watched in disbelief as his deceptively petite new friend efficiently packed away every scrap of his hearty meal without a trace of discomfort or self-consciousness, slurping up the last of his chocolate shake with an amusingly blissful expression.

With a smirk, he passed Denny a napkin to wipe away a trace of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. "Should I be worried that you'll stretch my clothes out of shape before we get back to the car?"

Denny blushed as he wiped his mouth, seeming to realize for the first time that he had not exactly been behaving like a proper and well mannered date, scarfing down his food – a meal he had not even thanked Kurt for buying him – like a starving dog. "Sorry, Kurt. My dad thinks I'm about to have a growth spurt," he said, ducking his head. "Sorry for being so greedy. And, and thank you for treating me. Next time I'll buy you something! I . . . I m-mean, if there _is_ a next time. If you want to go out again. 'Cause I know _I_ definitely want to, b-but I . . . maybe you don't. Um, do you?"

The blush was getting worse and the poor kid was starting to stammer as his fumbling speech ground to a confused halt. Kurt reached out and placed a hand over Denny's, stopping the nervous babble before it could start again. "Hey, take it easy! I was only teasing. I'm glad you enjoyed it and you don't have to buy me anything in return." He smiled. "As for the rest, why don't we worry about finishing this date before we start planning out our next move, okay?"

"Okay," Denny agreed, his tense posture relaxing again.

They chattered amiably back and forth for awhile about Glee and Drama-Club, which it turned out Denny was far more interested in than he was Speech & Debate.

"I like acting. It's really fun. I only signed up for Debating because my mom thinks it will help me pronounciate better."

"You mean enunciate?" Kurt corrected.

Denny nodded. "I kind of have a tendency to talk too much and too fast when I'm nervous, and some of my words get swallowed up."

Kurt did his best not to grin at that. If he had not already realized that the other boy was nervous about this date, that shy admission would have told him so. When he was not stuffing his face with cheeseburgers, Denny had been prattling nonstop ever since they sat down. "I guess we're a good match, then, because I usually go really quiet when I get uncomfortable. Or else I laugh weird, and that's even worse," he said with an unhappy sigh. "I don't know where it comes from, this stupid nasally sound, but I used to do it a lot. Finn probably thinks that's how I really laugh; he's heard it so often."

"He makes you nervous?"

Kurt winced. He had not intended to say that. "Not anymore. It's just that last year, before his mom and my dad started seeing each other, I had kind of a crush on Finn, so whenever he'd talk to me . . ." He gave a demonstration of that awkward nasal titter and Denny smiled, but there was an uncertain look in his eyes that had Kurt hastening to add, "I completely got over it; that crush. Finn is straight and there was never any hope for us getting together. Unfortunately, that didn't stop me from making a total fool out of myself, trying to change his mind."

He rolled his eyes and this time Denny laughed along with him. "Are you guys okay with each other now?"

"Yes, we're actually better friends now. Luckily, Finn is a great guy. We've had a couple of fights since he moved in, but now that we're practically brothers, everything is cool between us. And as far as dating goes, he has Rachel Berry and I . . ."

He stopped, feeling suddenly shy.

Denny just smiled and squeezed his hand. "And you have me."

Kurt smiled back. "I guess I do." Impulsively, he asked, "Hey, do you have to go home right away?"

"No, my dad is still at work and my mom should be going to pick up my sister from girl-scouts pretty soon. I have at least an hour."

"In that case, would you like to see my dad's garage? I might be able to talk the guys into letting you poke around some if they're not very busy."

His big brown eyes lit up at the proposal. "Seriously?"

"Sure, come on."

Gathering their possessions, the two boys left the restaurant and drove the short distance to Hummel Tires & Lube. Jesse gave Kurt a wave from the side of the garage where he was invoicing a customer and explaining whatever work had been done on the man's car. Kurt waved back and led Denny further inside, where he found his father and Frank putting a new set of tires on a Chevy Avalanche. "Hi, Dad, you busy?"

"No, son, I'm just doing my nails," he shot back, grunting as he lifted a heavy new tire into place and settled it properly into the wheel-well. "That ought to do 'er. Can you finish up here, Frank?"

"Sure, boss," he replied amiably, flashing a grin at Kurt. "Hey, guys."

Burt turned around, brows raising as he realized for the first time that Kurt was not alone. "Oh, sorry. Didn't realize you had company. This one of your singing friends, Kurt?"

His father was now quite used to Kurt and Finn's fellow Glee members showing up at their home at all hours, so he appeared unfazed at finding one now apparently invading his place of work. Kurt shook his head and put an arm around Denny's shoulders, drawing him closer. "No, Dad, this is Denny Payson." Kurt raised his eyebrows significantly, and when his father's face remained blank he brushed a fingertip over his own jaw, drawing his attention to the nearly invisible bruise still coloring it.

Burt's expression changed at once as he focused on the small red haired boy, who actually fell back a step as the large man's pale bluish-green eyes suddenly fixed on him with intense interest. "The locker poet?"

His lips twitched and Kurt smiled. "That's right. I decided that you were right and that maybe I should take a chance."

Nobody who did not know Kurt well would have been able to recognize the uncertainty and plea for approval that shone from his wide blue eyes as he raised his chin and looked to his father with a slightly challenging expression, but Burt knew his son very well indeed. Wordless communication flowed between the two Hummel men for a few seconds, then Burt gave Denny a smile and held out his hand after wiping it off on a rag. "Good to meet you."

Denny beamed. "You too, Mr. Hummel!"

"Kurt, uh, you mind if I talk to you for a minute alone?" Burt said casually. "Denny, we got some sodas back in the office fridge if you're thirsty."

"May I look around, sir?" the boy asked, displaying his very best manners. "I've always wanted to see an auto shop up close!"

Kurt smiled at his father's dubious expression. "He's serious. From what he tells me, Denny comes from a family full of gear-heads."

Burt's doubtful look softened into approval. "In that case, I don't see why not." Lifting his head up he bellowed, "Yo, Jesse!"

The younger assistant-mechanic poked his head around the back of the Chevy. "Yeah, boss?"

"This is Kurt's friend, Denny. You mind showing him around the place, letting him poke around a little?"

Recognizing the silent order to keep the boy from getting into any mischief, Jesse grinned and tugged the brim of his grease-covered baseball cap. "Sure! Follow me, kid."

Denny cast a questioning glance at Kurt, who nodded, then he happily went on his way, chattering questions a mile a minute as he disappeared into the maze of car parts and grease-racks that made up Burt Hummel's place of work.

Jerking his head sideways to indicate that Kurt should follow, Burt led him over to a place where there was no chance they would be overheard. "When did all this start?" he asked abruptly. "Two days ago you were afraid this kid was going to turn into some hero-worshiping pest, and now you're . . . what, friends? Boyfriends? Kurt, just tell me you two haven't already . . ."

He waved his hand in a too-uncomfortable-to-say-the-words manner, but his scrunched up face said the words for him.

Kurt was shocked and more than a little embarrassed. "Dad! No! Jeez, what's with the gutter-brain? We've only had one date so far! Assuming you can even _call_ burgers and fries after school a real date. I think we're kind of just," he bit his lip, considering how to phrase this new relationship, "friends with potential right now."

Burt looked confused. "So, why is he wearing your clothes? And don't tell me he just shares your sense of fashion, because I know damn well that's the same sweater you were ready to send out birth announcements about when it arrived in the mail off that designer's website last year."

Sudden understanding swept over Kurt and he started to laugh. "Oh! God, Dad, I didn't even think about how that would look to you." He laughed harder, his embarrassment giving way to jocularity as he imagined himself in his dad's position. Just the same, he decided not to be completely honest, for both Burt and Denny's sake. "He was getting picked on by three bigger kids at school and his own clothes got stained too badly to wear around school. I had my uniform on after this morning's assembly, so I offered to loan him my other clothes so he wouldn't have to feel embarrassed all day."

"And that's all that happened?" Burt checked, looking so relieved that Kurt snickered again.

"Well," Kurt said, smiling a little shyly. "I . . . I did kiss him once."

Much to Kurt's surprise and happiness, his father did not look repulsed by the thought of his son kissing another boy. "And then you took him out for food and now you've introduced him to your old man." Burt gently ruffled Kurt's hair. "Looks like you just got your first boyfriend, kid."

"You don't mind?"

He looked at him, a long probing look that Kurt stood up straight and tall against. "He make you happy?"

"I like him, Dad, and he likes me. I think we might just make each other really happy."

Burt smiled. "That's all I've ever wanted for you, Kurt. C'mere."

Kurt found himself enveloped in a warm hug and he clung to his father tightly. Everything was moving so fast and he felt like he was being pushed on to the fast track toward adulthood. It was what he had been striving toward, but now that it was here he suddenly felt nothing more than a strong desire to cling to the safety of childhood represented by his father's strong embrace. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Kurt." Burt smiled as he let him go, giving his shoulders a squeeze. "Now, lets you and me go find your friend before he convinces Jesse to do let him do something stupid."


	12. Chapter 12

Kurt lay on his back atop his open bedcovers, staring up at the ceiling with a dreamy smile. One arm was tucked comfortably behind his head and the other rested across his stomach, hand covering his phone as he waited patiently for Mercedes to respond to his text requesting her to call back. They spoke nearly every night and this time they had a lot to discuss.

He felt very happy this evening, content and comfortable; weary in that good way that signaled a full and productive day. It had not even bothered him to be teased and questioned all the way through dinner tonight after his father had spilled the beans to Carole and Finn that Kurt had started dating. Finn had already been filled in on some of the story by Rachel, but seemed puzzled that all of these new developments had practically happened right under his nose without his ever being aware of them.

Kurt, in an unusually good mood, had kindly refrained from mocking his typically obtuse friend. He had been too pleased with the general reaction. It had warmed his heart that all three of his family/almost family members seemed truly happy for him.

The familiar chords of "Beautiful" dragged Kurt's attention back to his phone and he reflexively checked the Caller ID before answering it in a low, playfully seductive tone, "Hey there, gorgeous. What are you wearing?"

Mercedes laughed. That question had become a standing joke between them after Mercedes' short lived crush on Kurt last year had brought them together as best friends and shopping buddies, if not romantic partners. "Same thing I wore to school today. I just got home from having dinner out with my family. How about you?"

"I should lie and describe something so fabulous you'd be writhing in envy," he teased, "but the truth is, I'm totally frumping it tonight."

"Seriously?"

Kurt smirked. "Afraid so; my black-and-red plaid PJ pants with a long-sleeved McKinley t-shirt to match. Not even wearing shoes to balance out the blah."

Mercedes sounded a little worried as she asked, "Are you feeling okay?"

"Mmm Hmm," he murmured, hugging a pillow for leverage as he got settled more comfortably on his left side, flipping the blankets over his legs. "Just tired. I didn't sleep at all last night, worrying about that routine for Coach Sylvester and today was pretty jam-packed, so after dinner I just did my homework and put on my moisturizer, and called it a night. Other than talking with you, of course."

He yawned loudly and Mercedes laughed. "You sure you're going to make it there, Rip Van Hummel? We could always catch up tomorrow."

"No way, girl! I want to hear all about you and Terrell. How did it go?"

"He's really sweet, and even better looking at close range," she said with a giggle. "He asked me out on Saturday night for a movie date! Actually, he asked me for Friday but I told him I had another date that I couldn't break."

Kurt grinned. "You mean our sleepover? Did you tell him that's what it was?"

"Are you kidding? Let the boy think he's got some competition! After all, it's true. A cute boy did ask me over." She laughed. "And the fact is, I need to harness all of your super-shopping-mojo to find the perfect outfit before I go out with Terrell."

Kurt was both delighted and flattered to realize that his best friend had no intention of blowing him off in the pursuit of her new relationship. "I hope that boy realizes that he's getting a sweet and brilliant woman as well as a beautiful one."

She giggled at the compliment. "Oh, you. Did I tell you, though? He thinks I'm sexy!" she blurted. "He actually said so!"

"Sweet, good-looking, totally not blind or stupid; I think you may just have found a winner here!"

Mercedes snorted. "More like you found him for me, and don't think I'm not going to find some way to thank you for that!"

He smiled. "So, you really do like him?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "He talks too much, mostly about world events because he wants to major in photo-journalism when he goes to college next year. But his voice was _so_ sexy while he was telling me about it that I really wouldn't have cared if he was giving me a weather report!"

"Sounds like we have something in common, then. Dad compared Denny to a squirrel because he wouldn't quit chattering. It's not a bad analogy, actually. He's little and cute and all that fluffy ginger hair kind of makes me want to pet him," Kurt admitted with a chuckle.

"Wait, you introduced Denny to your _dad_?" she said in surprise. "Isn't it a little soon for that? You've only been together for a couple of days."

He shrugged, even though she could not see the gesture. "I know, but we were in the neighborhood and I figured it wouldn't hurt to swing by the garage for a few minutes and introduce them."

"Yeah, but why so soon?" she persisted.

Kurt could tell that his face was turning red and suddenly felt glad that Mercedes could not actually see him. "Maybe this is jumping the gun a little, but I just really don't want there to be anything secretive or . . . I don't know, _shameful, _I guess . . . about this relationship, whether it ends tomorrow or goes on for a long time. I wanted Denny to know that I'm proud to be seen with him."

"You don't want him to feel like he should be ashamed for loving you, or being loved by you. The way you were made to feel last year," she said, worlds of understanding in her tone that suddenly made Kurt feel like crying. He would not have bothered even trying to explain his feelings to anyone else, but Mercedes knew exactly how lonely and depressed he had felt after his failed conquest of Finn Hudson, and even though he was still sorting out his own feelings for Denny, he had needed her to know that things were off to a better start this time.

"I think that's it," he said quietly. "I'm sure I don't love Denny, at least not yet, but the possibility is there in a way that it's never been before. It's just . . . for so long, for all my life really, everyone has always made me feel as if I didn't have any right to feel attraction, much less love, for another guy, and I know how hard my dad has been trying to work himself up to being cool with all of that. I just wanted to be straightforward and honest with him right off the bat, now that I have an actual possibility. I _needed_ to do that."

He sighed. He did not feel that he was explaining himself well and it was frustrating him.

"Well, I think you did exactly the right thing," Mercedes said firmly, her calm certainty settling over him like a soothing balm. "You totally _do_ have as much right to pursue love as the rest of us, and I think it's great that you're going for it. Besides, Denny is a cutie! Way too good a catch for some scabby little freshman piranha to get their teeth into!"

A startled laugh burst free, quickly joined in perfect harmony by Mercedes. "Is it any wonder that you're my girl?" he asked, affection ringing through every syllable.

"As if I'd let somebody else snatch you up," she scoffed. "So, other than Denny meeting your dad, is there anything else I should know about you two?"

She made teasing little kissy noises into the phone and Kurt grinned. "Are you asking me about my sex life?"

"Now that there's some possibility of you actually having one? Oh, Hey-ell, yeah!"

They laughed again, then Kurt confessed, "I kissed him, but only once. This morning when we made the date. I wanted to do it again when I drove him home, but his mom and little sister were right there and I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Especially with his sister, her name is Molly and she's twelve, making gross-out faces at us the entire time."

"Because you're a boy or because he's her brother?"

The humor in Mercedes' tone brought on by being the voice of an experienced baby sister made Kurt smile. "I assume it was the second one, because before that she was doing that annoying little sing-songy thing. You know, 'Denny's got a boooy-friend'."

She chuckled. "Yeah, I'd say she's just getting her tease on to make her brother squirm. If you had any younger siblings, I guarantee they'd be doing the same thing to you."

"No, all I have is Finn and his awkward, big-brotherly offer to give me the facts-of-life talk. I mean, hell-_O_!"

Mercedes burst out laughing. "Finn?"

"Yeah! What exactly he thinks he could tell me that I couldn't get off the internet, I have no idea, but I fended him off by saying that Dad had already put me through that particular talk when I was thirteen and even though the logistics are a little bit different without a girl; the basic knowledge is the same. Luckily, he backed off."

She was giggling helplessly by now. "I'd have been tempted to let him go ahead just to find out what kind of information Finn would think of as relevant!"

Kurt snickered. "I did consider that, but I was afraid that the embarrassment factor would kill us both." When their laughter died down, Kurt blurted, "Oh, I forgot to tell you!"

"What?" she said eagerly, sensing gossip on the horizon.

"You can't tell anyone, Mercedes, because I want them all to find out for themselves when it's official." He waited for an affirmative noise, then told her, "Shue is finally giving me a solo! He told me this morning at the end of Spanish class. I get to sing the opening number for the New Directions Invitational in two weeks!"

She squealed so loudly that he had to pull the phone away from his ear. "Oh, my God! That's so great, Kurt! What song are you performing?"

"I don't know yet, he said he'd think about it tonight and offer up a few suggestions tomorrow. I got the impression that his decision was kind of a spur of the moment thing brought on by my Cheerios routine this morning."

"It's about damn time," she said firmly. "It shouldn't have taken the possibility of Sue Sylvester snatching you away from Glee to finally light a fire under that man's skinny white butt!"

Surprised, he said, "You think that's what did it?"

"I know so. You've never seen yourself perform live, so you can't know, but you _totally_ come alive when you're out there singing for the squad, baby. Even somebody who wears blinders as big as Mr. Schuester's couldn't help noticing that!"

Kurt frowned; disappointed to think that perhaps it had not been his consistent quality and excellence during glee-club over the last year and a half that had changed Shue's mind.

"You still there?" Mercedes asked, making Kurt realize that his thoughts had drifted for several seconds.

"I'm here. I was just thinking."

She said, "You know what? We should come up with a list of great songs that you could sing for that performance! Stuff that will appeal to Shue's instinct for Sectionals numbers."

"He already said that if I do well at the Invitational that he'd consider the song for Sectionals," Kurt revealed, deciding, "And I don't want to suggest anything. I've voluntarily performed solos in Glee before, either as assignments or to make some kind of a point, and he never once considered any of them for public performance. This time, I want Shue to do what he promised. I want him to _give_ me a song of his own choosing. Something that will prove to Rachel, and everyone else, that he honestly believes I have the talent necessary to represent the entire group for once."

Recognizing the stubborn set to his voice, Mercedes backed off. "Okay, but if you need any help arranging your song so the rest of us can back you up, just let me know."

Kurt smiled, hackles lowering. "I will. Sorry if I got a little defensive just now."

She laughed. "Hey, if anyone understands that, it's me."

They talked for a few more minutes, until Mercedes noticed that Kurt was responding with a sleepy "Uh, huh" to nearly everything she said. It was early yet, but she could tell that she was losing him fast, so she just said, "I think I'd better let you get some sleep. Good night, babe."

Reaching up to click off the lamp next to his bed, Kurt closed his eyes and murmured, "Night, 'Cedes. Love you."

The phone barely managed to click shut on her reply before Kurt was sound asleep, a sweet smile drifting over his lips as he snuggled deeper into his pillow, already dreaming of the possibilities.


	13. Chapter 13

Kurt woke slowly, languidly, stretching with sensual pleasure from the spread of his fingers to the curl of his toes before melting back into the mattress. He had slept deeply and soundly all night; dreaming pleasant things he could not quite recall anymore as the cobwebs cleared from his brain.

Wondering how much longer he could get away with lying here before the alarm went off; Kurt opened his eyes and looked over at the clock. His brow furrowed. Something was not right.

Abruptly, he gasped and sat bolt upright, starting at the numbers in horror. Five minutes past eight! Oh, God, he had called Mercedes around 8pm last night and that meant he had slumbered, dead to the world, for twelve solid hours. Worse, it meant that he had 25 minutes before he would be late to school!

Launching himself free of the blankets, Kurt dug quickly through his dresser drawers. Underwear, the first jeans he could lay hands on, a t-shirt and a clean hooded sweatshirt. Not stylish but it was better than PJs, and he had to get a move on. Another frantic glance at the clock and he knew there would be no time for a proper shower and grooming ritual today. Kurt hurried into the bathroom to relieve himself – _hey, some priorities could not be avoided_ – and then stripped off his pajamas and gave his body a once-over with a wet washcloth before dragging on his clothes and giving his teeth a quick brushing.

His face, he noted unhappily, would just have to suffer the annoying lack of shaving, zit-cream, moisturizer and cover-up until after he got to school and found time to hole up in a bathroom somewhere to repair the overnight damage. He wished that there was at least time to fix up his hair properly, but it was so thick and overgrown right now – _Why couldn't this have happened on Monday after he'd had a chance to get it cut?_ - that it, too, was a lost cause. All he could do was drag a brush through the mess and hope for the best.

Kurt hurried back out to his bedroom to pull on socks and his black Converse sneakers, snatching up his book bag and thanking his lucky stars that he had packed it the night before after finishing his homework.

With one last frantic look at the clock, Kurt raced upstairs. Nobody home. Oddly disappointed that there was nobody to yell at for not waking him up, Kurt snagged an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter, snatched his keys from the hook by the door and ran for his car. It was starting to rain and he momentarily considered running back inside for a jacket but there simply was no time.

Jerking the hood of his purple patterned sweatshirt into place, Kurt jumped into his car and peeled out, secretly happy that his father was not home to see and yell at him for his lack of caution.

Driving as fast he could get away with in the increasingly heavy downpour, Kurt growled in frustration at every red light and kept a frantic eye on the passing minutes reflected in his digital dashboard clock. Finally, he reached the school and screeched into his reserved space in the student parking lot. Thank God for Cheerio perks! If he'd had to drive around looking for an empty space this late in the morning he never would have made it. As it was, he reached the front steps just in time to hear the bell ring. The second bell, judging by the lack of students.

With a curse, Kurt turned on his heel and sprinted around the outside of the building. The chorus room was on the far side of the school and it was faster to go this way, plus nobody could slap a detention on him for running in the halls. Pelting up the steps of the side door closest to his destination, Kurt yanked it open and literally skidded down the hallway, the squeal of his wet rubber soles on the polished linoleum making him wince. He stumbled into Glee rehearsal just as Will Schuester was saying, "Well, it looks like Kurt is absent again today, so Rach-"

"I'm here!" he gasped, breath heaving as he rested his hands on his knees and willed his pounding heart to slow down. "I'm sorry . . . I'm late. Alarm . . . didn't go off. Please . . . don't give away my song!"

Schuester smiled at the panting boy, a degree of humor in his kind brown eyes that eased Kurt's panic at once. Everyone else just stared at this damp and disheveled version of their fashionable friend with disbelieving eyes.

"Are you wearing _mom-jeans_?" Santana blurted; an expression of horror in her eyes as she looked over the loose-fitting, plain blue denim clinging to his rain-dampened legs.

Kurt took a deep breath, gulping a couple of times as he got his breathing back under control. He looked down at himself and blushed. "I got dressed in kind of a hurry and these were the first things I grabbed. My dad bought them." Unsure why he felt the need to defend his styling disaster, he continued, "They're the wrong size and style but he was so pleased with himself over having given me designer jeans that I didn't have the heart to tell him they were all wrong."

"Sorry I didn't wake you, Kurt," Finn offered, grinning as he looked his glaring housemate over. "I had to give Mom a ride to work since her car is in your dad's shop. I told you that last night at dinner, but you were about to fall face-first into your mashed potatoes so I guess maybe you missed it."

Ignoring the conversation of her classmates, Rachel suddenly surged to her feet, apparently the only person present who had noticed what Kurt had actually said a moment earlier. "Kurt, what did you mean _your_ song?" She turned challenging eyes on Schuester. "What song would that be?"

To his credit Shue did not flinch, nor did he bother with prevaricating. "I've decided that Kurt is way overdue for a chance to represent New Directions with his first solo performance, so I've decided to give him the opening number for our Invitational in two weeks." Smiling at the group, he said, "What do you guys say? Think he can handle it?"

The room erupted in cheerful congratulations and friendly touches as Kurt made his way to his usual top-row seat next to Mercedes. Rachel pouted but saw no sympathy coming her way, not even from Finn. Instead her boyfriend grinned widely at her and said, "This is awesome. Kurt's been waiting more than a year to get his own song!"

Rachel blinked, her insulted expression melting away to be replaced by one of shock. "A . . . a year? Really?" Anyone who looked at Rachel would be able to see that she was thinking about how awful it would be to have no personal recognition over such a protracted length of time. It shifted her priorities instantly. "Well, I'm sure I speak for the entire group when I say congratulations for a long overdue honor, Kurt. What song will you be performing? We need to know so that our set list can complement the opening number rather than detract from it."

Kurt was a bit startled, having expected a tantrum or at least a demand to try out for the solo. "Actually, I have no idea. Last time I spoke with him, Mr. Schuester hadn't decided yet."

Everyone looked at their teacher, who grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Ah, I'm glad you asked! I spoke with the director of the Civic Pavilion, where we'll be holding this season's performance, and he tells me that they would like us to consider a program that will go along with the Broadway across America series that will be hosted there over the next couple of months. They believe that the cross-promotion would be worth free rental of the auditorium and use of any props or costumes we may require, so we struck a deal."

A buzz of excitement rippled through the young singers at this. Kurt nearly bounced in his chair as he clarified, "I get to open the show with a _Broadway_ song?"

"That's right!"

"Mr. Schuester, perhaps instead of a solo number, we should reintroduce 'Defying Gravity' into our set list and turn it into a duet!" Rachel suggested brightly. She had been quite vocal in her disappointment when that song was dropped from consideration for last year's Sectionals competition. "I'm sure the audience would appreciate it."

Kurt rolled his eyes. He had made his peace with that debacle and while he normally would not have objected to performing 'Defying Gravity' – which he still adored - as a duet, it was just typical that Rachel Berry would make one more effort to horn in on his very first solo by suggesting he give it up for _that_ song.

"No," he said flatly, ignoring Rachel in favor of shooting their instructor a challenging look.

"That's not a bad suggestion," Shue said in a placating tone, "but as it happens, I already have something else in mind. Kurt, since you seem to do very well with classics, I would very much like to hear you perform 'Music of the Night' from _Phantom_ as our opening number. Now, I do realize that some of the notes might be a little bit outside your usual range so if you need the others to back you up, don't be afraid to say so."

Kurt was elated. _Phantom of the Opera_ was one of the first musicals he had ever seen, a traveling production his father had reluctantly taken him to see when he was ten. And honestly, it would not have mattered one bit if he had never seen it, because that song was iconic!

"I can do it," he promised, the certainty ringing through his voice making his teacher smile.

"I believe you can. I've got the sheet music right here for you to pick up on your way out. In the mean time, give me suggestions on what songs you guys would like to sing for the rest of our set-list. We get a full half dozen songs to perform this year, so I want everyone to have a say."

A babble of suggestions washed over the room, along with a few groans and complaints from the less theatrically minded members of their group who did not want to prance around singing show tunes all night. Will managed to placate them – well, Puck, really – with the reminder that there were a number of musicals such as _American Idiot_, _Movin' Out_ and _Rock of Ages_ that were based around popular, radio friendly hits.

Kurt barely listened; too busy fussing over his wet clothing and daydreaming about how marvelous his moment in the spotlight would be.

~#~#~#~#~#~

"I just can't get over how weird you look!" Mercedes laughed as they walked out of Glee together and headed for their lockers.

"Gee, thanks," Kurt said sourly, brushing his bangs back for the hundredth time. The lack of styling product was making them impossible to control and they kept flopping down into his eyes. The only good thing about that was that the heavy fringe of hair also disguised an acne breakout that he had discovered earlier. Unfortunately, nothing short of high-quality cover up was going to keep people from seeing the matching blemishes on his chin. "Couldn't you at least lie and say I look dangerous or something?"

She laughed. "You? Dangerous? Only if the Fashion Police come here looking for Lima's most-wanted!"

In spite of his insult, he laughed. That had been pretty good.

"Actually, though, I think the hair is kinda cute," she decided. "I never knew you had any natural curl."

"Curl?" he repeated, horrified. Hurrying up to his locker, Kurt spun the combination and jerked open the door to get a good look in the mirror he kept mounted on the inside. Mercedes was right. The edges of his untamed locks, having been teased into extra wildness by the weather, were starting to form thick loose curls all over his head.

Nobody would believe it, but his dad was responsible for that particular genetic trait, and it was one that Kurt fought against with the best products on the market. He _should_ have been good for at least another day. _Stupid rain . . ._

"Oh, I don't believe this!"

Mercedes was confused. "What's wrong? It looks good."

"It doesn't look _good_, it looks _cute_," he shot back. "As in kittens and teddy-bears and five-year-olds, cute. Not check out the hot guy, cute!"

She laughed. "Oh, well, okay I'll give you that one. I think you might be wrong about the hotness factor, though. What do you think?"

Realizing that she was not talking to him, Kurt turned his head, unable to keep from smiling when he noticed Denny standing there.

Denny grinned at them both. "I'm with her. You look great!"

Kurt ducked his head, pleased by the honest approval shining in the other boy's eyes. "Well . . . thanks, but don't get used to it. I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow, whether anyone else likes it or not."

"Just don't go crazy," Mercedes warned. "I don't think my heart could handle seeing you walk into school on Monday with Puck fuzz."

Kurt made a revolted face that got both of his friends laughing.

"I have to get to class," Denny said, "but I wanted to stop by and see if you'd have lunch with me today. You know, if you're not busy."

He looked so shy as he asked that Kurt's heart melted. "I'd love to." Then, he grinned. "We have something to celebrate. Mr. Schuester just gave me my very first glee-club solo!"

Denny looked confused. "How come it's your first? Don't you sing solos for the Cheerios all the time? I thought you said you'd been with the glee-club since the start of last year. Shouldn't you have had something before now?"

Mercedes shot Kurt a significant look as the smaller boy rattled off his questions. "Out of the mouths of babes, Shue," she murmured as the man in question strolled by with a friendly nod to everyone he passed.

"Singing is kind of a new addition to the Cheerios," Kurt said, not wanting to delve into the bitterness of being ignored for so long while he was riding such a high. "Shue heard me perform at the assembly and decided he wanted me to do more in Glee. I'm singing 'Music of the Night'!"

Denny's eyes almost bugged out. "That's so cool! Is it an open performance? Can anybody go? Can I get tickets? I'd love to bring my mom and dad to hear you! I told them all about you and how great a singer you are and they'd really love to hear you perform. Wow, I'm so glad for you!"

He clearly was. His cheeks had gone pink, his posture had straightened with pride, and bright brown eyes were sparkling with pleasure in his boyfriend's achievement. Kurt's heart swelled with the overwhelming happiness of seeing his own elation so honestly reflected in another's eyes.

Caught up in the moment, Kurt suddenly did not care that the hallway was full of students or that he might make them both late to class. All he wanted was to show Denny how much his support – _his_ _love_? – meant to him. Shoving his book bag into his locker, Kurt swept the shorter boy into his arms and pressed his lips firmly against Denny's.

There was a moment of startled hesitation, then Denny eagerly wrapped his arms around Kurt's neck and kissed back with everything he had. It was clumsy and awkward and sloppy on both of their parts, all chapped lips and uncertain movements, hesitant tongues and difficulties remembering how to breathe.

In short, it was completely wonderful.

A sudden flash brought Kurt back to the real world. He jerked away from Denny with rapidly blinking eyes, face turning crimson when he caught sight of his chuckling best friend playfully fanning herself and noticed the gathering of startled onlookers his display had brought. Denny just stared at him with a big dopey grin on his face.

Kurt's eyes narrowed as he realized that prominent among the watching crowd, holding up a camera and smiling in smug self-congratulation, was Jacob Ben Israel.

"Just in time for this afternoon's blog," the school's self-appointed tabloid journalist crowed in his annoyingly nasal voice. "Thanks for confirming the rumor, Hummel! This will go nicely with my featured article."

Jacob scurried away, guarding his shiny new prize like some awkwardly giggling little pack-rat, and Kurt could feel his stomach sinking. Earlier this week – could it really have been only four days ago? – Kurt had tossed an ice-cold Slushie in Jacob's face in his ongoing effort to be seen as one of the 'bad boys' of McKinley High. He had targeted the little gossip-monger for the very simple reason that he did not like him, but now Kurt had a very bad feeling that that childish impulse was about to come back and bite him in the ass.

Hard.


	14. Chapter 14

The uneasy feeling that Kurt had been feeling all day only grew worse when he entered the hallway after fourth period and headed back to his locker.

He waited, glancing around with growing apprehension as whispers and giggles flew around him, people shooting quick looks his way that would immediately turn away when he tried to make eye contact. Minutes crept by as the other students went to lunch and the hallway gradually emptied, but Denny, who had agreed to meet him here for their lunch date, did not appear.

Wondering if perhaps he had goofed up and Denny was waiting by his own locker instead, Kurt walked quickly down and around to the other side of the school. He smiled as he spotted a few members of his little fan club eating lunch together on the steps, but the expression changed to confusion when they all shot him glares so furious that he was tempted to check for sudden sunburn. Kurt opened his mouth, but the freshman stood up and hurried away from him before he could utter a single word.

Denny was not at his own locker either, Kurt realized, his dread growing as he wandered through the empty freshman hallway, biting his lip in frustration as he tried to think where else the younger boy might have chosen to go. He passed by the cafeteria and glanced inside, seeing no sign of his new boyfriend there either.

Eventually, Kurt returned to his own locker and slid down to sit on the floor, feeling his heart sink along with his posture.

There was no mistaking it. He had been stood up!

This had something to do with Jacob Ben Israel's infamous gossip blog. It had to. In his haste to leave the house this morning, Kurt had left his phone behind, so he had not been able to check the campus website that was used to publish the outpourings from JewFro's poisoned pen, but Kurt's mind easily flashed back to the wicked delight that filled that little rat face when Jacob had scurried away with his paparazzi-pic this morning.

God, he needed to read that blog!

"Kurt!"

He looked up, a momentary flash of hope turning to alarm when not Denny, but instead Rachel, Mercedes and Quinn appeared. All three had phones in their hands and expressions of outrage and sympathy on their faces.

"Have you read Jacob's blog?" Mercedes asked anxiously. "What did Denny have to say?"

Quinn's voice spilled over hers. "I'm going to kill that little cockroach! How dare he say those things!"

Rachel overlapped the last few words. "Jacob has gone too far this time, Kurt. I am _so_ sorry. I would have done whatever it took to stop him if I'd only known!"

Gut churning, Kurt struggled to his feet and grabbed the nearest phone, which happened to be Quinn's. Scrolling frantically up to the top of the posted article, he felt bile rising as he saw the photo of himself kissing Denny. He was barely recognizable with his unkempt appearance and plain clothes, and Jacob had snapped his shot while Kurt had his mouth open and the way he was clutching the smaller boy to his chest made him look like some kind of depraved Lothario!

This was supported by the caption beneath the photo, which read, **'Another One Bites the Dust!' **

_Lock up your baby brothers and sisters, McKinley! The newest Head Cheerio is on the prowl!_

_Junior Kurt Hummel has apparently made up his mind to keep the Campus Slut tradition of past Cheerio captains Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez alive and well. Hummel, who last year reputedly dated a number of fellow cheerleaders before coming out publicly as Gay, is now swiftly working his way through the male half of our population. _

_Spotted earlier this week sharing a passionate lip-lock with newly "outed" hockey player Dave Karofsky, Hummel has now decided to embrace his newly elevated social status and spread the attention in other directions. Finding the Junior and Senior class pickings too slim to satisfy the reputation-building swath he's cutting through the males of McKinley High, the freshman class is clearly no longer safe from the depraved attentions of this self-styled Bad Ass. The photo above, snapped just this morning, shows proof that our Head Cheerio is playing the field yet again as he toys with the affections of an unidentified freshman. _

_Looks like this one will earn him a few extra points on the Cheerio scoreboard, eh, McKinley?_

"Oh, my God," Kurt breathed.

The article was cleverly designed to imply everything as fact without actually citing any source material other than the photo. Kurt had not been aware of anyone watching when he had kissed Karofsky on Tuesday morning, and the fact that he had only done it to force the in-denial jock to admit the truth about himself had clearly been lost on the viewer. Or disregarded as irrelevant by a news-nerd who saw a golden opportunity to strike back at two people he did not like, both at the same time. The facts were either twisted or completely wrong, but by using words like 'reputedly' and 'apparently', Jacob could blithely ignore any accusations of libel and say whatever he liked. Nothing was provable, but it sounded juicy and that would be enough for most readers.

"Denny," Kurt moaned, slumping back against his locker and dropping his face into his hands as he blindly thrust the phone back at Quinn. "No wonder he stood me up! This article makes it sound like I've just been using him to bump my reputation!"

"But he won't believe that. He knows you better," Mercedes defended, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Kurt lifted his head, misery etched in every feature. "Does he? How _can_ he, Mercedes? All he knows for sure is that I'm some popular upperclassman who kissed him and then asked him out only _after_ finding out he was hot for me. Yesterday I was nice to him, defended him from bullies, did the childish equivalent of wining and dining him, and then today I barely say hello before I'm slobbering all over him in the middle of a public hallway! If he read this article, the poor kid probably thinks I expect him to gratefully give it up to me in return for doing him a favor!"

"But you wouldn't do a thing like that!" Rachel protested. "Not to anyone."

"Santana would have," he shot back. "At one time, Brittany would have. Hell, half the Cheerios have traded sex for reputation boosts! And guys are supposed to be bigger horn-dogs than girls. Why the hell should anyone believe that Coach Sylvester's very first male Head Cheerio has no interest in acting that way and is really a very nice guy?"

Hearing the quiver in his voice, Mercedes did not hesitate. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. "It's gonna be okay, babe. We'll explain it all to Denny and make him understand."

"What if you can't? What if he hates me?" Kurt whispered into her neck, accepting the group embrace that suddenly surrounded him. "_Everyone_ is going to believe this story! What if Denny won't even listen? Oh, God, Mercedes, why did Jacob have to go after Denny? He didn't deserve this!"

"Neither did you," Rachel told him firmly. "Everything about this article is scandalous, libelous and just plain wrong. I'm sure we won't be the only people who realize that, once everyone gets over the sensationalistic aspect and remembers what you're really like."

Kurt sighed, straightening up and leaning his head back as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I feel like this is all my fault. If I hadn't been so caught up in my own smug superiority and thrown that Slushie in his face the other day, Jacob never would have thought of going after me, much less used somebody I care about against me."

Quinn snorted. "I wouldn't be too sure. You've been big news on the blog-o-sphere lately and there's nothing that little weasel loves more than a scandal. Denny was just unlucky enough to get caught in the middle." She reached out and tenderly brushed away a tear that escaped to run down Kurt's left cheek at those words. "Don't worry. I'll rally the Cheerios on your behalf, and I'm sure Finn and Puck can get most of the jocks on your side. I _know_ that Artie and the A/V club will be more than happy to spread some good P.R. to counter this stupid blog."

"Mercedes and I will take care of the Jacob problem ourselves," Rachel promised, her jaw hardening with resolve. The other girl looked at her curiously, but nodded her immediate agreement, more than willing to take action against the nasty little troll who had dared to strike down her boy.

Mercedes hugged Kurt again. "Why don't you just go to class and keep your head down for the rest of today? We'll try to find Denny for you before Cheerios practice this afternoon. Have you tried calling or texting him?"

"I can't. I forgot my phone at home and I don't have his number memorized yet," he told her, and it went to show just how far his earlier good mood had sunk that that fact alone made Kurt want to burst into tears.

"That's all right. We'll just have to do the leg-work for you," Rachel told him with a smile. "Don't worry about anything, Kurt. We'll fix this."

Kurt managed to offer them a smile. He truly was grateful for their willingness to help, but he was more afraid that all their optimism was for nothing. A little bit of gossip went a long way in this school. He would be lucky if Denny ever wanted to set eyes on him again.


	15. Chapter 15

The second half of Kurt's Friday went from bad to worse. During every class, people texted, whispered and snickered to each other, not even trying to pretend that they weren't taking about him.

Between classes, he was shoved, cat-called, treated to rude gestures and addressed by more hateful names than he had had to put up with in months. Apparently, being a man-whore was just fine if one was pursuing girls, and cheerleaders could slut it up all they liked so long as they were female, but combining the two was offensive and disgusting.

Trying to point out that the blog was a lie was completely pointless, too. Nobody was willing to listen. After all, they had photographic evidence to the contrary, didn't they? They all seemed to feel that the fact that he had been forced to trawl the lowly depths of Freshman Hall only proved that he was pathetic as well as depraved.

It was the same old double standard that Kurt had been dealing with for all his adolescent life, only now magnified tenfold. In one fell swoop, Jacob had ruined his burgeoning love life, destroyed all of the socially equalizing progress he had made over the last few weeks and turned Kurt back into the biggest Lima Loser of all.

His friends had been checking with him at irregular intervals but none of them had managed to find Denny, leading to the disturbing realization that the smaller boy must have been so humiliated that he had run away from school.

The final blow to his pride came as Kurt was heading to his final class. He was dragging his way along the halls under a deep cloud of depression, not even looking where he was going. Suddenly, he stopped, realizing that someone was blocking his way. It was those four freshmen, Denny's friends – or acquaintances at any rate – who had stopped him and Finn on Wednesday to present the gift of a Slushie to their new hero.

The scene replayed again, but this time he was clearly no hero to them. Anger, betrayal and hurt flashed in the quartet's eyes as they looked at him, hands clutched tightly around four full containers of Slushie.

"I didn't use him," Kurt told them, his voice soft with defeat. "Denny is my friend. I would never have hurt him, or allowed him to be hurt if I'd had any idea what was going on. I am _not_ a player, no matter what Ben Israel's blog claims."

For a moment, the freshmen looked doubtful as they exchanged questioning glances. Then Kurt saw the young black girl, who seemed to be the leader among the group, shake her head. He braced himself, shutting his eyes just in time as four giant cups of flavored, corn-syrupy, icy beverages were launched at him from four different directions.

Kurt gasped sharply, literally frozen with shock, unable to speak or even to breathe as the painfully cold liquid spilled over his face and hair, saturating his clothing with needles of ice and a gallon of sticky fluid. He heard his attackers running away, one of their empty cups clattering to the floor, but he dared not open his eyes as he felt the thick frozen mess oozing down his face.

Someone started laughing off to his right, then another to his left, then somebody else picked up the chorus, and Kurt's humiliation became complete.

"How's it feel, Mister B.A.M.F.?" a smug and altogether familiar nasal voice demanded, sounding as if it were right in his ear. "Not so high and mighty now, are we?"

Kurt could not see and he could barely hear for the blood rushing through his skull, but he _could_ touch and years of sharp instinct, honed by dozens of schoolyard bullies, now came to his rescue. Before he could even consider what he was about to do, Kurt's right hand clenched into a fist and struck out sharply in the direction of that horrible tittering laughter.

He was rewarded by the feel of soft tissue squashing beneath his knuckles, followed by a howl of shocked pain.

"By Dose!" Jacob yelped. "You broke by dose!"

Gasps and murmured voices, sounding equally shocked and delighted, filled Kurt's ears.

Then, a sharp crack of authority, filling a voice that he would have recognized anywhere, trumpeted through the hallway. "Get to class! All of you!" Footsteps thundered and squeaked in a gratifyingly hasty retreat as Sue Sylvester's angry voice added, "Except you, Jacob!"

"He hid be!" Jacob screeched again, his words muffled by the hand frantically clutching his wounded nose.

Kurt's lids fluttered and squinted as he tried to wipe the remaining Slushie out of his eyes, a task made harder by the dripping wet hair slathered across his forehead.

"It looks to me like you hit him first," Sue said coolly. "Or are we having unseasonable indoor corn syrup storms today? Someone really ought to alert the local media. Oh, but that would be you, wouldn't it? Never mind, then."

"I didn't do it!" he whimpered.

"Really," Sue said, her even, almost friendly tone sending shivers down Kurt's spine that had nothing to do with the Slushie attack. "Because a certain article happened to cross my desk this morning that struck me as a _very_ pointed attack on one of my Cheerios, an attack based on unsubstantiated rumors and a lot of worthless innuendo."

Jacob stuttered. "B-b-but I have f-f-freedom of the press!"

Kurt's cloudy vision cleared enough for him to see the slow smile that slipped over Sue's lips. He was reminded of a snake about to swallow down the fear-dazed rat trapped within its coils.

"Oh, I'm all for freedom of the press, Jacob. In fact, I think it would do the folks around this town a world of good to have all their dirty laundry aired in public, if it weren't for the fact that the stench would kill us all. But it just so happens that I also have a healthy respect for a little thing called journalistic integrity. It seems you didn't bother to clear your little vendetta with the school newspaper editor before publishing it. Young Mr. Fisher feels that there's no room on his staff for a rogue reporter who can't even be bothered to check his facts."

"Wh-what?" he said weakly. Jacob looked like he was about to cry and Kurt surprised himself with a pang of sympathy. "He can't do that!"

"Sure he can," Sue said cheerfully. "You can continue to publish anything you like on your own time, but as of right now your account on the McKinley Olympian has been suspended, indefinitely. Unless, of course, you'd care to print a full retraction. With sincere apologies to both Mr. Hummel and young Mr. Paxton."

"Payson," Kurt interrupted quietly.

Sue shot him a glare that robbed him of his voice entirely. "Mr. Payson," she allowed. "And to the Cheerios, as a whole, for your gross misrepresentation of one of the finest and most highly respected and rewarded sports organizations in this entire state!"

Jacob gulped audibly. It was clear to both boys now just what part of that vengeful piece of yellow journalism had earned the coach's ire. By calling even a few of the Cheerios sluts, he had publicly insulted the entire squad. And Coach Sylvester herself.

Kurt's mouth twitched. Jacob looked like he was about to piss himself with fear.

"Today, Jacob."

"Y-y-y-yes, ma'am," he stammered. "I'll do it as s-soon as I visit the nurse."

Sue snarled, or perhaps it was a smile. Sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference. "Oh, grow a pair you little wimp," she growled. Her hand darted forward and grabbed the rather large proboscis, giving it a quick twist that brought another howl from Jacob and a flinch from Kurt. "There, good as new. Now get to that computer and start typing before my giving mood wears off."

Jacob gingerly patted his nose and sniffled. To his obvious surprise, it wasn't bleeding. "Yes, Miss Sylvester! Right away, ma'am!"

As he scurried away, Kurt tugged disgustedly at his ruined T-shirt, wiping more stinging corn syrup out of his eyes. "Thanks, Coach," he said gruffly.

"Come with me," she ordered, reaching behind him and grabbing him by a handful of sticky hair, ignoring Kurt's protest as she quickly marched him away from the scene. As they passed a janitor's closet where the school custodian was gathering some supplies, she bellowed, "Clean-up on aisle three!"

The man just sighed and nodded, adding a few more supplies to his cart.

"Ow!" Kurt whined as the demented instructor continued to drag him along by his hair. "Miss Sylvester, what are you doing?"

She ignored him completely until they reached the gym, where she then marched him straight into the boy's locker room without a care in the world for the inappropriateness of her presence there. Luckily, there was no P.E. scheduled for the last period of the day so the place was empty.

Struggling to see properly through the mess that continued to sting his eyes, Kurt did not realize they had reached their destination until he found himself being efficiently stripped right down to his underwear and shoved under a running showerhead before he could do more than screech out a protest.

"Start scrubbing!" Sue barked. "You're a disgrace to your uniform, Hummel!"

The sarcastic retort that he was not wearing a uniform, or much of anything else thanks to her, died on Kurt's lips. Coach Sylvester was standing just outside the range of the shower, hands on hips, fuming. Kurt could swear that she was actually growing taller as she leaned towards him.

"What did I do?" he demanded instead, obediently and somewhat gratefully rinsing the goop away from his hair and face. He wished he had the emergency cache of shampoo, conditioner and body-wash that lived in the bottom of his locker for these kinds of emergencies, but beggars could not be choosers, so he just used a bit of the plain liquid soap that was available from a dispenser on the wall.

"You didn't do a thing," Sue told him disgustedly. "That's exactly the problem. That gossip-mongering little toad printed lies about you. He insulted your teammates, your boyfriend, your sexuality and anything else he could think of, and you just tucked your tail between your legs and _took it_. That is not what I expect from my Head Cheerio. Your position demands respect! You're the head bitch on campus, Hummel, excepting yours truly. You _don't_ pout and cry and take personal insults lying down. You fight back! You make them eat every last dirty word until they choke!"

Kurt paused in his scrubbing, honestly fascinated by her passion. "I'm sorry, Coach. You're right. I've been so worried about Denny that I didn't care what happened to me. I just don't want him to get hurt anymore."

Her chin lifted, some of the fire leaving her eyes as she inhaled a deep breath through her flaring nostrils. If there was one thing on earth that Sue Sylvester respected, it was the desire to protect a loved one who was weaker than oneself.

"If that picture had any truth to it at all," she said evenly, her usual calm restored. "It was in the passion behind that kiss. High school romances are about as solid and permanent as dandelion fluff but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to catch them when they drift past. Now, as I recall, you hadn't quite figured out just which way you intended to jump last year, and up 'til now I still hadn't decided whether you were a gay boy or just a confused little eunuch."

Kurt's mouth fell open, too insulted to form words.

A smirk twitched the coach's thin lips. Her eyes raked over his leanly muscled form, from the heavy thatch of wet hair, past the soaking wet underwear clinging to his body in a way that made Kurt cross both hands protectively over his privates, and all the way down to the still firmly tied but now thoroughly drenched sneakers he had never gotten a chance to remove.

Kurt blushed brightly when she said, "Now I've made up my mind. Congratulations, Hummel, you're a boy!" He could not resist rolling his eyes at that, but luckily the small sign of irritation only amused Coach Sylvester. "And now that the Jacob problem has been taken care of, maybe you'd better make sure your little friend knows that too."

She turned and walked away. "By the way, you're suspended from today's Cheerios practice for fighting," Sue called over her shoulder. "But you can wear one of the spare uniforms in the supply room, and you're excused from any further punishment in reward for the damage you inflicted on Jacob just now. I'll expect you back at practice, with the proper winning attitude, on Monday."

"Thank you, Coach Sylvester."

Sue paused in the doorway; eyes narrowing in a threatening manner that made Kurt involuntarily back up a step. "Oh, and Hummel..."

"Yes, Coach?" he said meekly.

"I strongly suggest you get that mop cut before I see you again. If I catch my Head Cheerio openly mocking me with those disturbingly Schuester-esque curls again, I will kick you off the squad, but not until after I have sheared your head so closely that sheep will pity you."

Kurt gulped. "It won't happen again, ma'am."

She nodded. "See that it doesn't. Oh, and tell Mercedes that she's welcome back on the team at any time. I hear she's only been dating that newspaper editor for a couple of days and she's already got him thoroughly whipped into shape. I approve."

As Sue finally exited the shower room, Kurt fell back against the tiled wall with a wet plop. His friends had obviously gone to a lot of trouble on his behalf if they managed to get both Terrell Fisher and Coach Sylvester involved in helping him. It was heart-warming. And there had actually been something strangely inspirational in Sue's one of a kind pep-talk. He felt hope stirring for the first time hours that he might be able to salvage the situation with Denny.

But first, he had to find him.


	16. Chapter 16

After a suspicious glance out into the locker room to insure that he was actually alone, Kurt removed his water saturated shoes, socks and underwear and took his time finishing up the shower. The generic yellow dispenser soap smelled horribly antiseptic but it was better than wandering around wearing a coat of congealed corn syrup for the rest of the afternoon.

In no rush to try and make the last half of History class, Kurt also took a few minutes to rinse out his sticky clothing and wipe down the surface of the messenger bag he had been carrying when the Slushie attack came. Thankfully, it was a high quality satchel, so none of the books and papers inside had been damaged.

Helping himself to a towel from the stack that always occupied the shelves just outside the shower area, Kurt dried off and wrapped his hips securely before using another to squeeze the water out of his hair. He buffed his thick locks carefully with the second towel, raking them back into a semblance of neatness with his fingertips and patting the gently curling strands tenderly in the wake of Sue's horrifying threat against them.

As he got dressed in a pair of borrowed Cheerios warm-ups, Kurt pondered where Denny might have disappeared to. Would he have gone home? Somewhere public, like the mall? Or perhaps some private hiding place? Kurt huffed in frustration. He simply did not know Denny well enough yet to have any real idea where to begin.

It would be easier if he had his phone, Kurt decided. If he had his phone, he could call or text and at least _try_ to convince Denny of his side of things. If the other boy refused to answer, Kurt would just keep on trying until he gave up and started listening.

It wasn't good, but he felt better for having at least some kind of plan.

Gathering his damp possessions, Kurt briefly considered his discarded shoes then decided to leave them off. The halls of a public high school were not necessarily the best place to walk around barefoot, but squelching along in soaking wet shoes would be even worse, and he had a replacement pair in his locker, the red and white cross trainers he had brought to wear with his own Cheerio uniform for that day's practice. A few minutes of Bohemian style would not kill him.

The final bell of the day rang just as Kurt made it back to the hallway where his locker was located and he was surprised to see that Mercedes and Tina were already there. Their eyes lit up with excitement the moment they saw him and Kurt felt a surge of hope.

"What's going on?" he demanded as soon as he got within earshot. "Did you find Denny?"

Their bright smiles dimmed a bit. "No, sorry Kurt," Tina told him, touching his arm sympathetically. "Nobody has seen him."

He sighed sadly. "Oh. When I saw you both waiting here, I thought . . ." He shook his head sharply. "Never mind."

Mercedes attention was momentarily diverted by his appearance. Flicking one of the wet curls dripping over his forehead, she demanded, "Boy, what is going through your head today? This morning it was mom-jeans and stubble, which was bad enough, but now you're doing some kind of freaky hippy cheerleader thing?"

With a sigh, he brushed her fussing fingertips away and opened his locker, digging out his sneakers and a dry pair of socks. "It's been a really hellish day and I'll explain all about it later," he sighed, hopping on first one leg and then the other as he finished getting dressed. "For now, I could really use some good news, so please tell me why you guys look so excited."

Tina shoved her iPhone into his face. "Rachel was right! She thought that if Mercedes talked to Terrell about Jacob's blog he might be able to convince him to back off. I never thought it would work, because that little rodent never backs down from a story, but here it is! A full retraction and an apology!"

"I wish I knew how Terrell managed it." Mercedes marveled. "Especially when even Rachel personally demanding a retraction in return for a date didn't budge Jacob."

Kurt's mouth dropped open. "Wait, seriously? Rachel offered to go out on a _date_? With _Jacob_? In **public**?"

His voice was squeaking up a little higher with every incredulously emphasized word, but he could not help it. He was completely astounded that all of his friends – and oddly enough he did count Rachel among those - were not only rallying around him, but going to incredible lengths to try to help and protect him.

"I know!" Tina said with a slight laugh. "Pretty intense, huh?"

"Definitely," he agreed, shaking his head in wonder. "Wow. Maybe I should invite Rachel to our sleepover as a thank you. After all, the poor girl will probably be suffering nightmares and need reassurance that there's no creepy little boogeyman hiding under her bed. I know _I_ would."

They laughed and Mercedes said, "So, that means we're still on for tonight? I wasn't sure you'd be in the mood for company after the day you've had."

He nodded. "I'm actually more in the mood for it. Assuming you girls won't mind listening to a probable bitch-rant or two."

"Has that ever stopped us before?" Mercedes teased. Pushing Tina's phone at him again, she urged, "Now, if you want something to improve your mood, you gotta check this out!"

Kurt obeyed, his serious expression giving way to a disbelieving smile. Jacob Ben Israel's follow-up publication to his morning blog had to be the single most obsequious thing he'd ever read in his life. Jew-Fro's moment of shame was displayed for the entire school to see as he confessed to having "mistaken" an unsubstantiated rumor for fact, and unintentionally misrepresented the "deservedly popular and kindly forgiving" – Kurt snorted at that one – captain of the proud national champion Cheerios.

The blog went on and on, thoroughly kissing Kurt's ass as it outlined how several students had since confirmed witnessing his "brave and selfless" defense of Dennis Payson from tormentors, leading to a firm friendship and eventual love connection between two "out and proud" young men.

_Jeez, Jacob, Sue really put the fear of God into you, didn't she? You could write for the soaps! This thing makes it sound like Denny and I have shared a long sweeping love affair over months instead of a couple of kisses and a four-day acquaintance._

At the end of the article, the author proceeded to personally apologize to Kurt Hummel, Dennis Payson, Terrell Fisher, Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez, Sue Sylvester and what seemed like half the state of Ohio before he finally finished with an announcement that the Ben Israel Blog would be taking a 2-week publishing hiatus.

"He doesn't do anything by half measures, and he works fast, I'll give him that," Kurt allowed wryly. "Wonder what that last part is all about."

"Oh, that was Terrell's idea," Mercedes told him, as a grinning Tina recaptured her phone. "He wouldn't tell me very much but he did say that he agreed to let Jacob keep his account active on the condition that he back off of you and let all this blow over before publishing any more blogs. Not sure how he plans to enforce that, though."

Kurt smiled. "He won't have to. Jacob is too terrified of Sue Sylvester to risk pissing her off and she threatened to cut his account off permanently if he didn't retract that earlier story."

A lot of people did not realize that the academic credit required for all coaching staff in the school district was fulfilled by Sue Sylvester acting as head of the journalism department. Kurt was not sure whether Sue had ever actually bothered showing up to teach a class but in effect, she was Terrell and Jacob's boss, so her threat had carried actual weight rather than being just the sheer force of her own tyrannical will.

"Wait, how exactly did Coach Sylvester get involved in this mess?" Mercedes asked curiously.

Surprised, having assumed that involving Sue had been the plan all along, Kurt explained the events of the past hour. He hesitated to give them the entire story. After all, it was pretty embarrassing and there _were_ a lot of potentially interested ears filling the hallway right now. The last thing he needed was to give the gossip mill any more grist. An edited version would be better.

"Sue marched me down to the lockers to get cleaned up after the Slushie attack and then bawled me out for getting so upset about a little bad P.R. She also suspended me from cheer for the day, but I think that was just her weird way of encouraging me to go after Denny without being forced to openly show any kind of sentiment."

Tina grimaced. "I doubt that. It's not like she actually possesses a heart!"

Kurt and Mercedes exchanged an understanding glance. They both knew better.

Just then, an excited squeal rent the hallway and Rachel came charging up to them. Grabbing Kurt by the arm, she nearly yanked him off his feet as she began propelling him back in the direction she had come. "I found him!"

Kurt stopped dead. "What? Who? Denny? You found him?"

She nodded excitedly. "He's probably been there all afternoon!"

"Where?"

"Come with me," she ordered, tugging him again.

Kurt did not need any further prodding. He burst into a jog beside Rachel, hearing Mercedes and Tina thundering along a few paces behind.

Rachel laughed brightly. "I couldn't believe it! I got out of English class a few minutes early so I could collect my music. I wanted to begin as soon as possible choreographing our new routine for the Invitational, but I had no sooner reached the stage and started to warm up than a flash of color caught my eye at the very edge of the footlights. I moved to the end of the stage and looked down and there he was!"

"The auditorium," Kurt said, shaking his head as they entered the quiet theater and walked quickly down the carpeted aisles. "It never even occurred to me to ask anyone to look here. I should have known! He's a drama-geek. He told me yesterday that he loves being around sets and props and acting more than anything. Why didn't I think that's where he might go when he wanted to escape?"

Ignoring his self-recrimination, Rachel put a finger to her lips and warned, "Shhh."

Kurt ended his rant at once, following her to the little row of fold up chairs that filled the orchestra pit located at the base of the stage. There, curled up along the padded seats of four chairs, sound asleep, was Denny.


	17. Chapter 17

The sight of Denny, safe and sound, brought Kurt a feeling of relief so intense that it shocked him. Making his way quietly down to the chairs, he sank to his knees, sat back on his haunches and just stared for a few moments.

Denny's slack features were flushed in sleep but Kurt could see the traces of tears still staining his cheeks and clumping the thick brush of reddish-gold eyelashes. A part of him had been hoping that just maybe Denny had come in here and fallen asleep before Jacob's first blog had hit, but those tears told him otherwise.

Kurt reached out with a gentle hand and shook the other boy's hunched shoulder. "Denny," he whispered. "Denny, it's Kurt. Wake up."

Sleepy brown eyes blinked and squinted and just for a moment, the beautiful bright smile that Kurt was coming to love lit up Denny's features at the sight of him. But then it vanished and a terrible wounded expression took its place. "What do _you_ want? I thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore now that that reporter kid has wrecked your plans."

"There was no plan, and of course I want to talk to you!" Kurt countered. "Denny, my friends have been trying to find you for me all day. I wanted to explain, to apologize, and to tell you that it wasn't true, but I couldn't find you!"

The smaller boy sat up, using the heel of one hand to rub his eyes and having no idea, Kurt was sure, just how adorable he looked with his sleepy eyes and rosy cheeks and messy copper hair. The sight almost distracted him from understanding the words Denny spoke next. "Then, why didn't you answer me?"

"What?"

"I called you!" Denny said angrily. "I didn't want to believe those things in the blog, and I'm sorry I stood you up at lunchtime but I just didn't know how to face you if that all stuff was really true! I came in here where I wouldn't have to see anybody and texted you instead, and I waited for the whole lunch period but you didn't answer, so I called you instead. I couldn't bring myself to go back out there when the bell rang, so I just stayed in here. And I tried and tried, like, a dozen times to call you but you wouldn't answer me back and I knew . . . that it all must be true and you really _don't_ want me and, and . . . "

The tears had started anew as he fought through his miserable explanation. Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but Denny cut him off.

"Why couldn't you have just brushed me off that first day instead of being so nice to me and making me think you liked me back? I mean, I guess you've probably got _lots_ of guys chasing after you, so maybe you thought I was funny or something, but it wasn't funny to me. You were the first guy I've ever seriously liked . . . and you . . . I . . . _Why_, Kurt?"

Denny's voice cracked, becoming tiny and filled with utter misery as he sobbed out those two final words, leaving Kurt feeling as though he had been stabbed through the heart.

"I am _so_ sorry. I would have answered your calls but I forgot my phone this morning, so I never got any of your messages," he explained, tears of his own welling up when Denny flinched back from his attempted touch. "Jacob Ben Israel was mad at me because of something I did to him and he wanted to hurt me. I guess he figured that the best way to do that was to ruin what I have with you; and he was right. I have been so . . . _so_ miserable without you today, Denny. Just knowing how that blog must have made you feel . . ."

The tears spilled over and for a moment Kurt could not get his voice working past the painful lump in his throat.

"It's true," Rachel said, squeezing Kurt's shoulder and making him jump. He had actually forgotten that anyone else was here. "That blog was nothing but a vindictive lie and Jacob has already been forced to print a retraction."

"Kurt never wanted you to get hurt, sweetie," Mercedes told him gently, taking the seat next to Denny and giving him a big-sisterly hug. "The jerks in this school have been treating him like crap all day and he didn't even care because all he could think about was finding you."

The boy looked rather doubtful, after all these people were Kurt's friends and would be expected to take his side, but it was obvious that he truly wanted to believe it. "Really?"

"A kid in my last period science class told me that Kurt punched Jacob right in the face," Tina said, drawing a shocked look not only from Denny but from the other two girls as well. Kurt had not mentioned that part in his recitation of the Slushie event. "And everyone who really knows Kurt took your guys side over Jacob's."

"Apparently, even Sue Sylvester," Mercedes added, smiling at the saucer-eyed reaction this got from Denny. Even to kids who barely knew the crazed Cheerio coach, Sue was a figure of legend.

Kurt watched, hands clenched tight in his lap and tears still leaking down his cheeks as he waited for Denny to finish silently perusing the new blog that Tina brought back up on her phone.

"A mistake?" he whispered. Hopeful eyes fixed on Kurt. "So, you really weren't just playing the field?"

A hiccupping laugh burst free. "_What_ field? All that BAMF, hero, bitch-boy stuff is just an empty reputation that other people put on me because I can't seem to think before I do anything." He snuffled and dashed at his nose, shaking his head. "You're the only guy who's ever even _wanted_ to hook up with me. And when I started getting to know you, it felt so . . . special to think that somebody as wonderful as you are would choose _me_ to be his first boyfriend. And I can't think of anyone I'd be more honored to have for my first one either."

The tears were spilling faster as all the worry, fear, anger, despair and hope of the last six hours caught up with Kurt. He knew that he was rambling and getting a little hysterical but he could not help himself.

"I never meant to hurt you."

With a sob, the freshman suddenly launched himself at Kurt, knocking his legs into a lopsided sprawl as Denny flung both arms around his neck, half-strangling him with the force of his embrace. "Kurt, I'm sorry. I was so scared. I was afraid that I'd only been seeing what I wanted to see instead of what was really there. When you kissed me this morning, it was the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me and when I thought you hadn't really meant it, it just . . . it . . . I . . ."

Giving up on trying expressing himself verbally, Denny resorted to action. Taking Kurt's face in both hands, he kissed him with all the passion he had demonstrated this morning but none of the hesitation. Kurt's arms flailed helplessly for a moment before winding their way securely around the other boy's lean but sturdy form and holding him with desperate strength.

_What do boy's lips taste like? _

The question Kurt had asked Brittany so long ago echoed in his mind as their mouths ground against each other. Denny's lips tasted of bubble-gum and chap-stick and the salty mingled tears running down both of their faces. They tasted of a completely natural sweetness that Kurt felt like he could become rapidly addicted to.

They tasted like love.

Someone snuffled loudly and Kurt broke away from Denny's kiss, laughing with happy embarrassment when he realized that all three of the girls were sitting next to each other with their arms intertwined and their heads resting against each other, watching the show with sappy smiles and tender gazes. He suddenly felt like the star of some romantic 'chick-flick'.

Denny laughed too, dashing away his tears but seeming in no hurry to leave the seat he had at some point taken upon Kurt's legs. His arms were still wrapped around Kurt's neck but loosely now and he rested his shining coppery head against his boyfriend's chestnut one. "Thanks, you guys," he said. "I guess you had a lot to do with helping us, huh?"

"You're our friends," Rachel replied, preening with satisfaction at having her contribution acknowledged. Kurt struggled to keep his eyes from rolling. "It was the least we could do. Oh! Unless perhaps you'd like us to sing for you! There's nothing that expresses a beautiful reunion between two young lovers quite as well as a Broadway song, and we've got several planned into our new Invitational set list that I just know-"

"_Rachel!_"

She stopped, blinking in surprise when Kurt, Mercedes and Tina all bellowed her name.

"Way to ruin the moment, white girl," Mercedes scolded, giving the back of Rachel's head a none-too-gentle smack.

"Oh," she said again, sheepishly this time. "Sorry."

Kurt could not help himself. He started laughing, softly at first, then in great ringing peals. That had just been _such_ a Rachel Berry thing to do.

The others quickly joined in, all the stress and tension of the day releasing itself in a cathartic burst of mutual good humor.

Shifting against the hard, cold floor of the orchestra pit, Kurt gave Denny a little push. "My legs are falling asleep. Think you could help me up?"

Denny scrambled out of his lap at once and helpfully hoisted him to his feet. Kurt wrapped an arm around Denny's shoulders. As Denny happily snuggled into his side, Kurt smiled and pressed a soft kiss against his temple. He hoped the growth-spurt Denny's father had predicted did not come on too soon. They fit together so perfectly this way and it would be a shame to lose that any sooner than he had to.

Turning to the girls, he said, "I think Denny and I are going to go spend a little time alone together right now. I'll see you girls at my house around seven tonight for the sleep-over?"

Mercedes and Tina nodded happily, but Rachel looked a little forlorn, reminding Kurt that he had never actually extended the invitation he had considered.

"I meant all three of you," he told his friend and frequent rival.

Rachel beamed. "I wish I could," she admitted, "but Finn is taking me to a movie at seven and I'm leaving with my dads first thing tomorrow morning for a weekend trip to my aunt's house."

He nodded, realizing that she had just been feeling left out as the only person who had not been invited to hang out. In truth, Kurt was relieved. He liked Rachel far better now than he had last year and had been sincere in his invitation, but too many hours in close quarters still tended to make them want to scratch each other's eyes out.

Still, for her help against Jacob, her unusual show of support and just for being the person who had finally found Denny, Kurt felt he owed her more than just a casual word of thanks. "Can I borrow your phone for just a minute?"

"Certainly," she said, fishing out the bright pink, sticker decorated cell that made Kurt's stomach churn a little every time he saw it.

Hiding his reaction, Kurt scrolled through her contacts until he found the number he was looking for. Putting the phone to his ear he waited for a connection, and then said, "Mr. Schuester, this is Kurt Hummel. Listen, I wondered if it would be all right with you if I change my mind about the opening number for our Invitational. I think 'Music of the Night' might work better as a group number for all the guys, and I'd like to take Rachel up on her offer to do a duet of 'Defying Gravity' for the opening." He smiled when he saw the girl's brown eyes go round with surprise. "Especially since Rachel already agreed to let me sing the lead."

He playfully stuck his tongue out when Rachel's mouth fell open in shock. After a moment, she just grinned and nodded, accepting his condition.

"Yes, I'm sure. It would be just as good as having a solo and I really do love that song. Thanks, Mr. Shue! Okay, bye."

As he hung up and handed back the phone, Kurt shrugged. "I owed you one."

"But you were so excited about finally having your first solo," Mercedes interjected, looking at the two of them doubtfully.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Tina added. "I'm sure Shue would let you change your mind again if you act quickly."

Rachel shot the other two girls a scowl, but then reluctantly agreed, "You _have_ waited a long time for this opportunity, Kurt, and I really didn't help you so you would owe me anything."

"I know," he said, smiling down at Denny, "but I've decided that maybe duets are better. Besides, what I really wanted was just for Mr. Schuester to be willing to _give_ me a solo, to show everyone that he believes I deserve one and can handle it. He did that. It doesn't matter if I actually perform it or not."

Rachel looked a bit puzzled over the idea of anyone not wanting to perform a solo once they'd been given the opportunity, but Mercedes smiled, understanding exactly what he meant.

Kurt smiled back. His best friend was the only person he had ever told the real reason behind his messing up the solo of 'Defying Gravity'. If he and Rachel performed the song as a duet, it would probably be enough to keep the homophobes at bay. Even if it wasn't, he was no longer afraid to show the world who he really was, and his dad had Carole Hudson for support now if any more idiots phoned the garage just to call Kurt names. Having an open relationship with a boy would risk far more of that type of reaction than simply singing a girl's song in public, and yet his dad had accepted the idea of Kurt dating Denny without a single sign of fear or discomfort.

Leaning toward her, Kurt kissed Rachel on the left cheek. "Today just feels like a really great day for second chances."

Denny hugged him around the waist as the two boys started walking up the side aisle that led back to the main hallway. As they left the auditorium, Denny's voice echoed back, "I can still get tickets for the show, right? Even if you don't have a solo anymore?"

Kurt could only laugh. "You'd better!"


	18. Chapter 18

Several people expressed interest in a glimpse at Denny's family, so I thought, why not?

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It was raining hard when Kurt and Denny left the school and headed for Kurt's Navigator, huddled together beneath the shelter of Denny's large black umbrella. In spite of it being Friday afternoon, the parking lot was still largely full of vehicles, most belonging to the assorted sports and other after-school-activity participants.

Even though he had been personally excused from practice, Kurt felt the thrill of one who was getting away with something as he deftly maneuvered his truck away from the other Cheerio vehicles and pulled out of the lot, deliciously aware that he would be spending the afternoon with his boyfriend while the rest of his fellow cheerleaders were working their butts off for Coach Sylvester.

"Do you mind if we go to my house for a while?" Kurt asked, already starting along the familiar route towards home. "I mean, nobody should be there at this time of day and I really want to spend a little time alone with you. We don't have to if you'd rather go someplace else, though!"

He added that last part hastily when he saw Denny biting his lower lip, realizing the invitation had sounded a lot like a cheesy '_let's head over to my place, baby'_ kind of pick-up line. Something Puck might say. Considering the painful misunderstanding that blog had caused today, he did not _at all_ want Denny to feel that he was being pressured.

To his surprise, an amused little smile creased Denny's cheeks, making two adorable little dimples pop into view. "You really mean that you want to go home so you can change clothes, right?" he asked. Seeing the startled look on Kurt's face, he added, "Ever since we left the auditorium, you keep adjusting your shirt and messing with your hair."

Realizing that he did indeed have the fingers of one hand buried in his disheveled locks, Kurt laughed. "Sorry, but you're right. Some kids threw Slushies at me and I had to clean up in the locker-room but that cheap soap in there really sucks. These aren't my warm-ups either, they're just emergency spares from the storage closet and they don't fit very well."

"It's okay with me," Denny said amiably. "I'd really like to see your house."

There wasn't much talk as they drove through the rain-drenched streets, but Kurt's right hand and Denny's left intertwined of their own volition and the silence was anything but uncomfortable. Instead, after all of the ugly misunderstanding words they had suffered through today, the quiet was almost reassuring.

As they reached Kurt's house, he led the way inside, taking Denny's coat and umbrella and setting them to drip on the mat laid beneath a row of empty coat-hooks just for that purpose. "Come on in," he invited, leading the other boy into the large, airy living room. "Sit anywhere."

Holding up a universal remote control, Kurt quickly showed his guest which button operated what. He had a perfectly good television in his room, but did not want to push things too fast by inviting Denny downstairs to use it. Particularly since he was planning to take a shower and change clothes. Besides, his father would probably kill him if he were to find out that Kurt had taken a boy, one he had already admitted to having romantic interest in, down to his bedroom unsupervised.

"Feel free to watch whatever you want. There are movies in that cabinet under the television, and the kitchen is right through there if you're hungry. Help yourself to anything except the Oreos, which are Dad's private stash, and the fruit cups in the refrigerator door, which Mercedes will kill me over if I don't have them available for breakfast tomorrow morning."

"Remote, movies, don't eat the Oreos or fruit cups," he repeated back, laughed at Kurt's concerned fussing. "Got it."

Kurt nodded. "Okay, then. I'm going to go take a shower. I'll be right back." He started to leave, then changed his mind and pressed a short kiss against Denny's lips, loving that he had the right to do so. "I'll be quick!"

As he started to head downstairs, he was stopped by a hopeful, "Kurt?"

"Yes?"

Denny smiled, looking a little shy as he asked, "Could you leave those?" he said, winding a lock of hair around his fingertip. "I know you don't like them and they'll be cut away tomorrow and that's okay, but I . . . I think you look really cute. Hot-guy cute, not teddy-bear cute," he added reassuringly, grinning when Kurt blushed.

"Well . . . okay, I guess. But only this one time!"

With a sigh, realizing that he was already becoming a pushover for those big, pleading eyes, Kurt hurried downstairs and took a fast, hot shower, happy to have his own bathing supplies back. As he dried off, he treated his hair to some styling products and blow-drying but reluctantly kept Denny's requested style intact. Mercedes had seemed to like the curls, too, and he felt an irritating certainty that Carole would find them simply adorable.

He made a face at himself in the mirror as he took a few minutes to treat his abused skin to its accustomed exfoliation and moisturizing regimen. "Well, I don't care what they think. _I_ still think you look like an overgrown five-year-old," he grumbled to the curly-haired boy in the mirror. The reflection nodded. At least _somebody _agreed with him.

Humming to himself, Kurt got dressed in black skinny-jeans, a form-fitting gray and navy layered sweater and black leather sneakers. A quick, critical inspection in the mirror had him deciding that the outfit looked good; dressy but casual. Denny had not objected to the slob version of himself who had shown up at school this morning, but Kurt felt a strong need to make a better showing now.

A glance at the bedside clock drew a wince. His styling had taken longer than intended. Kurt ran back up the stairs, an apology on his lips. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Denny looked away from the big screen TV and smiled, eyes lighting up with appreciation as he got a good look at Kurt; making him feel that those extra few minutes had been well worth it. "That's okay; I was just watching a movie."

"Which one?" he asked, moving toward the sofa and smiling as he saw that Denny had chosen, "Oh, '_The Princess and the Frog_'. Mercedes gave me that."

"I hadn't seen it before," he said, sounding a little apologetic at being caught watching a children's movie.

Kurt settled in next to him and put an arm around the other boy. "It's pretty good, and you're just getting to the fun part, so my timing is perfect."

He helped himself to a handful of the cheese crackers that Denny had selected for his snack and smiled when Denny cuddled closer and rested his head against his shoulder. For the next hour, they snacked and snuggled, kissing from time to time as the urge took them, and laughing over the movie together.

Kurt sighed happily, realizing that this was all he had ever wanted. Oh, there was a physical side to relationships that he was anticipating just as eagerly as any other teenager, but it was _this_ he had really craved, an opportunity to feel wanted and cared for and truly comfortable with someone; to be able to relax with another boy and have no fear that he would panic or get angry if Kurt showed any outward sign of affection.

They were kissing eagerly again by the time the credits rolled, but broke off at the sound of the front door opening. It was Burt. He looked surprised and slightly alarmed at finding them curled up on the sofa together, but his eyes quickly travelled over the scene and as he realized that while it was somewhat intimate, everybody still had all their clothes on, he relaxed.

"Hey, Dad," Kurt greeted, rising and brushing away a few small cracker crumbs that had landed on his sweater. "Why are you home so early today?"

Burt's brows quirked. "I'm not. It's almost six o'clock. Shouldn't you be getting ready for your little party tonight?"

Startled, Kurt looked at the clock. "Oh, my gosh! The girls will be here in an hour and I still have to take Denny home."

Burt smiled, nodding cordially to the other boy as Denny turned off the television and DVD player and came to stand next to Kurt. Denny grinned back, making Kurt smile as well. He was grateful that the two of them seemed to like one another.

"Why don't you go do that and I'll put in the call for some pizza," Burt advised him.

"Thanks, Dad. Let me just run downstairs and grab my phone and we'll get going," he told Denny, remembering that he still had not recovered the missing item. "Could one of you do me a big favor and call me so I don't have to go searching? I left my phone somewhere in my room this morning, but I can't remember where."

"Sure," his dad said, pulling his own cell out of his jeans pocket.

He waited until Kurt was partway downstairs before hitting the speed dial. Kurt frowned when he heard the familiar ringtone and realized it was coming from his bed. Finding the cellular phone tucked beneath his pillow, he remembered that he had been talking to Mercedes when he fell asleep last night. No wonder he had left it behind in the morning rush.

"Got it, Dad!" he shouted as he checked the messages and winced at seeing a dozen texts and missed calls from Denny.

Quickly scrolling through the texts, he deleted the increasingly frustrated and disheartened messages, not wanting to dwell on how close he had come to losing this new relationship.

~#~#~#~#~#~

"Hey, everybody's home!" Denny said brightly as Kurt pulled up in front of his house. "Want to come in? My brothers are all home for the weekend and I know they'll want to meet you. And you haven't met my dad yet!"

A flutter of nervousness hit Kurt's belly. Funny, in all the anticipation of one day having a boyfriend and having to introduce them to his own dad, Kurt had never considered that he would have to return the favor. "Um, sure, but I can't stay very long."

"Oh, I know. They just want to give you the once-over," he laughed.

Well, that was fair, Kurt decided. After all, he was the older one in this relationship. He might be anything; a potential suitor, heartbreaker, Prince Charming or trouble-maker for their little boy, until they had an opportunity to get to know him. _He_ was now the boyfriend that he had always assumed he would be defending to his own father!

As they walked inside the house, Molly Payson instantly bellowed, "Mom! Denny's boyfriend is here!" at the top of her lungs, making Kurt flinch.

Footsteps came from every direction. Mrs. 'Call me Fran' Payson reached him first, stroking his arm and leading him inside with a smile as she said, "Kurt, I'm so glad you could come over tonight. Dennis has been telling us so much about you and everyone is just dying to meet you."

He just smiled at her, finding his tongue unable to form any words as a tall red-haired man walked up to him, followed by three younger ones – two brunets and a redhead who looked just like an older, taller version of Denny. They all surrounded Kurt with smiles that made his skin prickle. He half expected a dumpster to magically appear so that they could toss him inside of it.

The older man stuck his hand out. "Kurt," he said simply, giving him a friendly nod. "I'm Douglas Payson. Denny's father."

Kurt actually relaxed a little, seeing Denny's warm brown eyes shining out of this stranger's face. He managed to smile back. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Doug, please," he said, clapping a hand on Kurt's back and gesturing toward the boys. "You've already met our Molly, but these are Denny's older brothers, Alex, Kevin and Steve. Boys, this is Kurt Hummel."

To his dismay, Kurt found himself left in the company of the brothers as Denny pulled his parents aside and gave them a much edited version of the day's events to explain why they had recieved a call from the school about him missing his afternoon classes. The couple exclaimed and sympathized accordingly with the trouble their son and his friend had been put through, while the Payson brothers looked at Kurt with even sharper expressions of appraisal.

They were all right around the six-foot range and somewhat on the muscular side, and Kurt felt like cowering under their heated stares, but a part of him refused to do it. He was Kurt Hummel, damn it; singer, fashionista, head cheerleader and proud, young gay man. He would _not_ be intimidated.

Forcing his stunned tongue into working order, Kurt made small talk with all of them, keeping his manner polite and friendly, thanking his fast wits when Denny's brothers and sister started entertaining themselves by questioning him on everything from his position on the McKinley cheerleading team to his favorite breakfast cereal.

Denny had come back to his side, perching next to Kurt on the end of a leather love seat and holding his hand throughout the interrogation. In spite of their rather intense manner, all seven members of the Payson household laughing and talking over one another, Kurt found himself smiling as the minutes went by. There was a sweetness to their playful teasing and he realized after a while that this was their attempt at making him feel welcome.

"Kurt, honey, would you like to eat with us?" Denny's mother asked and the nods and smiles of the male members of the family clued Kurt in that, without quite knowing how, he had managed to pass the acceptable boyfriend test.

"Oh, no thank you, Mrs. P- I mean, Fran," he corrected, seeing her scolding look. "I'm expecting guests tonight and I really should get home before they arrive."

She nodded. "All right, then, but we'll expect you back for dinner one evening soon." She whispered something to Denny, who nodded and scampered from the room, returning a few moments later with a paper wrapped package. Fran kissed Kurt on the cheek, surprising him. "Good night, sweetheart. You drive carefully in this weather."

Not used to such open displays of affection from people he barely knew, Kurt blushed. "I will. Good night, everyone."

They responded in kind and Kurt breathed a sigh of tremendous relief as he and Denny stepped out into the cool air of the lit front porch. "Oh, my God," he blurted, making Denny laugh.

"You did really well," he revealed. "My brothers have been planning this moment pretty much ever since they found out that I was gay. They were kind of happy because they thought they'd have to wait until Molly started dating to be able to pull the intimidation act on a boy."

Kurt laughed. "Don't be surprised if Finn does the same thing to you when you meet him. He's kind of new to the whole big-brother thing, so he really pours it on sometimes."

Denny smiled. "Will you call me tomorrow?"

"Of course. In fact . . . I was wondering if you'd like to go out tomorrow night? We haven't been on a formal date yet and I'd really like to. Will you go to dinner at Breadsticks with me, and maybe a movie afterward?"

Denny's brown eyes had grown starry as he asked the question, giving Kurt his answer even before he said, "I'd love to."

"Great." He hesitated. "I . . . I guess I should probably go."

"Yeah. Oh, here," Denny said, handing Kurt the package in his hands. "Your clothes. My mom took them to the dry cleaners for me."

He smiled. "You guys didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it. Thank her for me, okay?"

They stared at each other for a long moment, both reluctant to say goodbye. Then, as one, they leaned forward and their lips met. It was sweet and chaste but left Kurt tingling with warmth as they parted.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Kurt did not even remember the trip home. He would later reflect that it was lucky he did not get into an accident on the dark, rainy streets as he drove on auto-pilot all the way from the Payson home to his own. He was practically floating as he walked into the house and took off his coat, smiling at everyone he saw. The girls had arrived a few minutes early and Carole and Finn were home as well. Finn was clearly just about to head out for his date, but paused to say hello.

"Hi, everyone," Kurt said, practically singing the words.

"I was going to ask what took you so long," Burt said wryly, "but from the look of you I don't think I really want to hear the answer."

Kurt practically giggled, much to his own embarrassment. "I went in to talk with Denny's family for a little while. They're nice. Really loud!"

"So you liked them," Carole observed with a smile.

"I did." He grinned. "And I think they liked me!"

"Well, of course they did," Burt said, brushing a hand through his son's hair, brows twitching in amusement at the thick locks, which were curling even worse after their exposure to the damp night air. "I'm glad everything worked out for you, son. Now, your pizza just arrived a couple of minutes ago so why don't you kids head downstairs and start your party while it's still hot?"

Mercedes and Tina were grinning at him; eyes alight with interest as they anticipated hearing all about his afternoon. Finn looked a little confused but he was smiling at Kurt with clear affection in his warm dark eyes. Carole and Burt had their arms wrapped about one another's waists, every bit the indulgent and loving parents.

As he looked at all of them, Kurt was suddenly overwhelmed with happiness and had to show them how he felt. "I love you all, _so_ much," he said sincerely. Hugging them each in turn, he went down the list and playfully announced, "I love my brother. I love my Dad. I love my Carole. And I love my girls."

He hugged Mercedes and Tina together, and then grabbed a box of piping hot pizza off the table where it had been set and led the way downstairs. His happy voice echoed back up the stairs, "Oh, you guys, I asked Denny out on a date and he said yes! We have _such_ major shopping to do tomorrow!"

Realizing that the three teens had just begun a long night full of gossip, giggling and boy-talk, Burt Hummel shook his head and smiled as he shut the basement door.

**THE END**

**Yes, folks, this IS the last chapter. This story is structured in such a way that it could go on and on indefinitely, but I don't like shopping trips in real life so I see no reason to write one. And first dates? Only interesting if you're actually a participant. Reading about somebody else's dinner date is a lot like watching slides of your neighbor's vacation. Zzzzzz That said, I'm honestly glad now that I did not stop this story with Chapter 12! Thank you so much for all of the encouragement, love and yes, even the bullying that kept this story going. Thanks again to DJ-DizzyD for starting me off on this crazy little Glee side universe! **

**Please Review!**


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